Crispy potato slices with Mediterranean veg
Yesterday morning I woke up feeling absolutely terrible. My sinuses were throbbing, I felt nauseous and feverish, and generally wanted nothing to do with the world. Every few minutes, mum would wander into my room and go something like “oh, poor you, I’m sorry you feel ill, but my teeth / head / stomach really hurt”. By the afternoon, I had gone through amusement to frustration, and back out to amusement.
Late in the afternoon, we went up to the hospital, where the gynaecology consultant confirmed that the lichen sclerosus is getting better now mum is back on the steroid cream. Obviously I can only go on behavioural observation, but I had noticed that mum’s complaining about the soreness had become more intermittent, interspersed with other complaints, which I suspected meant things were improving.
Mum was discharged to Patient Initiated Follow-Up (PFI) – i.e. I will only need to arrange another appointment if mum shows signs of getting worse – and the consultant will include in mum’s discharge letter a mild scolding for the GP for letting mum run out of the cream.
We came home via Tesco, where I acquired a pack of paracetamol. Partnered with a mug of hot Ribena, they made me feel sufficiently better to have a couple of slices of toast. Because of my condition, I really shouldn’t go for long periods without eating, but sometimes my stomach just has other plans. The toast was very nice, though.
This morning, just as it was getting light, mum woke me up to ask if I was still here. An hour or so later, she woke me again, to tell me she was frightened. Then again, for something I don’t quite remember. The fourth time, I groaned into Suki’s fur, and got up.
Thankfully I felt considerably better than I did yesterday, although – unsurprisingly – very tired.
The carer who came in was very proactive, attempting to chivvy mum into washing and changing her clothes – unsuccessfully, but she tried – then fed mum, did her meds, cleaned the kitchen, emptied the kitchen bin, emptied the food waste bin, and made mum’s bed. She was very empathetic over the challenges of caring for a family member, noting that it is often easier for paid carers to get people to do things like eat and take their meds.
This afternoon I started completing the application form for the flat, contacted another letting agent about another flat in case this one falls through, and “mmm”ed along to mum’s many, many complaints. Tomorrow I am going to contact the rheumatology consultant about mum’s ongoing head and tooth pain. I’m still pretty convinced the pain is at least partially the result of her anxiety, but either way the result is that mum is in pain and needs help.
For dinner I intended to do chicken with crispy potato slices and roasted Mediterranean veg, but forgot that it was a whole half chicken rather than fillets so left it far too late to put it in the oven. So we just had the potatoes and veg, followed by cherry pie a la mode (an Americanism that sounds so much better than plain “with ice cream”).
Mum is currently on second dessert, while I’m blinking sleepily and wishing I had taken a little more time over my pie as I now have a burned tongue.
As always, I’ll see you tomorrow.
