Day 7 in Joondalup Private Hospital. We are now resident in Room 24. This move was the culmination of a minor meltdown caused by a lack of sleep, Michael's illness and an overriding concern about his nightly deliriums. I felt that his spiking temperatures and possibly pain were the cause of his hallucinations and that his Panadol regime was not sufficient enough to control his fevers.
Feeling quite alone and in fear of what the following nights might bring, I jumped at the possible suggestion of a carer to watch over him. I could go to Callum and Bronwyn's house to luxuriate in unbroken sleep and Michael would be safe from his delirium...
Yesterday was further complicated when I agreed to meet Alex and his new support worker at Lakeside for lunch, prior to heading to Banksia Grove. Having packed my toothbrush and a pair of knickers, I wandered up to the front desk to enquire about a carer coming in for that evening.
My query was met with a blank glance, following by an explanation of protocols. An assessment and interview had occurred the previous afternoon with an OT and of course, Michael had been coherent and compliant. On the basis of that test, Michael would not be eligible for a carer.
This conversation was not carried out with any unpleasantness. However, in my state of high stress, I burst into tears and returned to Room 17, with no confidence of a good night's sleep anytime soon or somebody else to watch over Michael.
The lovely nurse co-coordinator Diana followed shortly afterwards and assured me she was doing everything in her power to assist us. She encouraged me to meet Alex for lunch and then go on to Cal's home afterwards. She was hoping to move Michael to Room 24, which had more room for us and we could also have the attentiveness of the carer supporting the patient in the adjacent room. Finally, I felt confident enough to leave Michael.
I had the usual fabulous lunch with Alex, met Peter, his new support worker who hailed from Bhutan and had a chat with my wonderful friend Ailsa, who is a nurse, an independent support worker and very wise to the systems of both hospital and disability sectors.
At three thirty, I arrived in Banksia Grove. I was revived by a seriously delicious cup of tea, help with my dirty washing, entertaining Miss Violet whilst Cal and Bron were up to their eyeballs with party preparations for Miss Imogen. I was able to engage in an outpouring of all the angst that I had been trying to keep under control. Encouraged by Ailsa, I also sent a message to our doctor explaining what had happened.
In my absence, Michael and all our worldly possessions were moved from one side of H4 to the other. Plus the presence of a carer just out the door. I rang Michael before dinner and asked him whether he was still comfortable with my sleepover at the kids. He was utterly miserable, his chest hurt horribly and he wanted me to return.
So, I had the most delicious dinner, was able to play with my divine granddaughters, had two glasses of wine, had our dirty clothes washed and dried and had a truly relaxing and delightful afternoon and evening with my beautiful daughter-in-law and that awesomely loving son of mine.
Heading back to Room 24, the change was palpable. The room felt welcoming, I had the reassurance of the carer, and Savannah, the night nurse co-coordinator was absolutely outstanding in her support of us. Liquid panandol was easier for Michael to swallow, anti-inflammatory medication was added for additional pain relief, she arrived swiftly when we rang the bell and made herself available to discuss our situation and any concerns I had. We also discovered a mutual love of dogs...
I couldn't believe the positive difference seven hours of sleep made to my well-being. Michael only woke once, he had no delirium, all his needs were met and we didn't surface until breakfast time. The grip of constant nausea began to ease, he was considerably brighter and for the first time in days, he smiled. He knew who he was, where he was and who I was. Life was suddenly better once more.
I drove away to Immy's birthday party in a fabulous park with multiple playgrounds, fifteen minutes away from the hospital. Cal had secured a large gazebo for us just next to one of the big play structures in the shade. Immy's party was a rip-roaring success. Violet stole the show by plonking herself down in the circle during pass-the-parcel, determined to be part of the action. Food and drinks were enjoyed with total gusto. All the grandparents and one great grandparent were thrilled to participate. What a glorious morning.
Cal and Bron prepared a party food container and a party bag of goodies for Michael, so he wouldn't miss out. He was delighted to have been included. An added bonus was the party blower and bubble blower, which allowed him to practise chest physio whilst having fun.
Exhaustion hit me again and I curled up on my sofa bed. I was sound asleep when Scott Claxton arrived to see Michael and was thoroughly amused that the pile of blankets had me underneath. After waking up properly, I took Michael out for a walk in the fresh air before dinner. Bliss for him and pushing the wheelchair certainly gave me a decent blast of aerobic exercise as well. We intend to go outside again tomorrow.
He is smiling and his recovery continues. All is well in our world.
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