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| Mum at her happiest with her granchildren. |
She was recovering from a stroke and was in a rehabilitation hospital.
She had been there for five weeks and was making steady progress.
Ironically she had her first stroke on the anniversary of Joshua's birthday, September 16th 2010.
I was about 8 weeks pregnant, and no one knew.
We found her collapsed on the floor of her flat.
It was her second major stroke.
Visiting her, being pregnant with the twins, working full time and juggling the family was plain hard work, but we managed to see her every single day, one way or another.
In retrospect I am so very glad we did.
On October 16th we had been running late, and arrived close to the end of visiting time, but they let us stay later. As Mair was running around waving rubber doctors gloves and my mum was laughing at her antics she suddenly stopped and slumped quietly into her chair, as if she had just fallen asleep.
I took Mair out to where Simon was sitting and then RAN for help.
Everyone came very fast, curtains were drawn and help administered , but it soon became apparent she needed to get to hospital fast.
We took everyone home, understandably they were all in shock , so they could at least eat tea.
I returned to the hospital, to sit with mum who was, too all intensive purposes in a coma.
I was then taken into a room and told she had suffered another devastating stroke and that she also seemed to have some internal bleeding.
Basically there was nothing anyone could do but wait, wait for God, as it were.
We had to decide what sort of care we wanted for her and then she was taken into a lovely side room.
As we had no idea if she was going to make it through the night we brought the children to see her there. Abigail was on her friends hen night and Bella was at Alton towers so they arrived later.
I am convinced through the small movements she made that she was aware of our presence and the eldest children each got some time with her on their own.
Being my strong, stubborn, scottish mum, she lasted the night, and infact the next four days. She was moved upstairs to a side room on a more general ward (the coughing and wheezing was enough to put any of the children who had perhaps contemplated smoking, off for life!)
I took leave of absence from work and Abigail did the same from uni and we spent four sunny autumn days with mum. We decorated the room with her cards and balloons and asked that radio 2 be played when we were not there so she could hear something familiar at all times. As we left, Susie arrived to take over the evening shift for us to get the little ones to bed. My mum was quite peaceful and we felt, aware of us there.
On the last day, Tuesday, she seemed very unsettled and in pain. We asked that her medication be upped, a rather rude, foreign doctor, chewing gum and looking very disinterested gave us the time of day and seemed to treat my mother in the most offhand fashion.
When I came back that evening to pick up Susie, she again seemed very restless.
How I wish I had just stayed the night.
I reasoned she would be okay, I was pregnant, terrified I would miscarry, sick as a dog and stressed so I went home.
The next morning Abigail and I arrived and walked into her, dead. No one had realised at all, and she had died alone. The shock was dreadful and will take us both a very long time to come to terms with. The staff claim they 'tried' to phone us, however there were no missed calls on either of our mobiles (that we left and asked to be contacted on day or night if she deteriorated) or on our house phone.
I calmly walked out, went to the nurses station and informed a very stuffy clerk that my mother was dead. Again, they all sprung into action.
Abie and I sat with her for hours, Simon arrived to say his goodbyes and we then had to leave and organise everything. I was in a complete daze, but thankfully an articulate one, and made notes. Months later I complained officially to the heath board and received an apology months after this. They suggested it maybe therapeutic to meet up to discuss it.
I don't think so, unless they feel a black eye is any help?
We trudged home and had to tell the children and visit the undertakers.
Two days later, it was Susie's 17th Birthday and the day after my others 81st.
My mum and I did not get on for many years, it's a well known fact.
However in her latter years , she moved very nearby and we came to a pleasant truce.
She was too old to be bothered to argue, I was wise enough o realise life was too short.
We had a lovely time in her two and a half years here. We went for walks, went to Debenhams for lunch and took Mair out.
She said that having Mair, had given her a fresh lease of life, and it had.
I only wish she could have lived longer and seen our beautiful twins.
As I walk through this week, I cannot escape the intense feelings it evokes.
Perhaps as always it is a reminder of how precious life is and how much we should enjoy the time we have with our loved ones instead of getting caught up in the trivia, for at the ned of the day, we never know when they may all of a sudden no longer be there.
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