We had a wonderful Saturday evening with our Hairdresser Friend. We drank Sangrias, ate R's lasagne and had some Scotch. HF came in full drag makeup, slipped on a Dolly Parton wig and one of the late Dame M's late Boarder's frocks. She padded out the red dress out and she looked fabulous. We video chatted with the remaining Brother Friend in Thailand.
Early Sunday morning the landline rang. I didn't bother to get up to answer it. Probably a spam call. It was ABI Brother. About half an hour later Sister called my mobile and told me that Mother had fallen down and had to press her pendant emergency alarm. Apparently she managed to get up again but there was something wrong with her leg that had collapsed under her and was icy cold. What was ABI Brother doing? Her carer? He was so soundly asleep the paramedics couldn't wake him and left him a note. He had drunk far too much and was comatose.
So paramedics were summoned and she was transported to the emergency department of a private hospital at her request and she was admitted. Sunday afternoon I saw her and she looked terrible and was quite distressed, especially when she discovered a vascular specialist had struck off her Federal approved Panadene Forte. Whatever, she had it reinstated. Don't ever mess with Mother's Pandene Forte dosage. Now being a little deaf, she argued with nurses about here medications. I'll visit her on Monday. I didn't.
Five o'clock Monday morning I woke up with a racing heart again. I thought it would settle down but it didn't. I packed a few things and about 7.30 I woke R to call an ambulance. Shocko again to get my heart rate right and blood pressure low. I was booked for an MRI scan on the 1st of December and the hospital cardiologists and my own wanted me to stay in hospital until the scan could be brought forward. It eventually happened Thursday. In the meantime I was constantly monitored and given goodness knows how much IV drip fluids of something. I was going stir crazy in hospital. I couldn't leave the ward as the monitoring device around my neck would disconnect. I was woken in the nights for various checks. I think at least a litre of blood has been extracted from me and my arms are like pincushions.
The longer I stayed, the more R had to bring in for me and I felt like I was a prisoner in a gaol. Medication was changed and the specialists are now happy with my heart rhythms, although I may have some minor heart surgery in the future.
Strangely while I was disturbed by hospital goings on overnight and woken for tests at various times, I had the best and longest overnight sleep I've had for years. Weird.
I 've tried to work out a common factor with the two incidents but I can't. For a start one was not too late at night and one early morning.
Of course R was stressed by all that was going on around him and with COVID limited visitor numbers, he couldn't see Mother.
Add to that the complication that Mother's house was sold on the day I went into hospital. Wednesday from hospital I signed electronically on her behalf to an agreement for the sale. There is a three week finance approval time, so until that has passed, it is not actually sold.
Mother is being moved Friday to a rehab hospital but the last time she was there she refused to participate and lay around like lady of the manor with staff underlings. I think she knows better this time as the previous time really left her struggling to walk and she has never been as good since.
The cheery news is that COVID has been totally cleared from my state and only one other Australian state has COVID and is at the end of local lockdown after an outbreak from a quarantine hotel for returning travellers. It hasn't been easy for any of us to get to this stage, but we did it. Of course the poor have suffered the most and surprise, many company profits are up, as is private wealth. The workers? Not so much but most are alive, while we remember the many who died from this disease, especially the elderly in nursing homes. Yes, some may not have lived much longer anyway, but still.
I'd love to show you a front view of our HD friend, but make do with a back view. She is a slightly enhanced real woman. She looked so Dolly Parton, without the large bosom because of breast cancer.
Sister called in to see R and brought flowers to welcome me home after my term in gaol.
The Mornington Peninsula side of the family will not really connect well with the Bellarine Peninsula side. I can't imagine Hippie Niece writing anything like this as Sister's 13 year old daughter Jo wrote to me. She designed the card herself too, although three years ago and had them printed. It is too formal and stilted to write to an uncle and I expect she is showing off, but appropriate writing styles to different people will come to her soon enough.