This music and video so encompass how I feel right now. Thanks Isaac… for showing me the below link to Killian Martin and thus a serendipitous discovery… Patrick Watson. Two amazing music vids. Enjoy.
Isn’t excellence divine? In any form? Killian Martin… Skate Regeneration
So… Thursday morning… Ma’s condition worsened… I paid a visit early and realised I needed to take action. She was completely delusional. I called the doc who agreed to a house call. While we waited I blitzed the kitchen, cleared the fridge, emptied the cupboards. Within five minutes of arrival the doc agreed Ma should be admitted for tests, a brain scan, and a sorting of her broken wrist as her five digits had ballooned into fat purple sausages… and let’s not forget her seeping legs. God, how can one human being become such a mess so quickly?
The ambulance came at 6.30- busy times- they were lovely- as they always are, but late… I hold paramedics in such high estimation. They are amazing. And they rise above difficult situations… always.
I arrived with the ambulance and got Ma settled in the ward. I left Dad at home- his relief was palpable- bless him. I knew he had M&S ready meals that were burning a hole into his psyche. He needed to cook/re-heat, in peace. I was worried about Ma’s hand. Kicked up a fuss. Got the night nurses backs up, one of them said ‘I can assure you every one on this ward has integrity… we will do what is required’. I said- ‘Sorry… but it’s not about you… it’s not about your integrity… I’m just concerned about my mother…’ and in the end, even though it was exactly what I SO didn’t want to do, (control freak as I can be at times…) I burst in to tears. And that made the difference. I suddenly had every one round me. Concerned. I got what I wanted, obliquely. They changed and things happened. Life is weird.
Got home about 11pm to 9 teenagers partying. I knew they would be- it had been planned for a long time and I hadn’t had the heart to cancel due to my change in circumstances. I know what evenings like this mean to teenagers- I can remember. But as I opened the door, heard the drum and bass, smelt the beer, I dipped into the loo, smoked a fag, took a few minutes to gather myself. Eventually Julius came to find me… asked if I was Ok and I said yes. I emerged, sort of smiling.
I made a cup of tea and took myself upstairs, phoned a friend, felt boulstered, came down, joined the throng and chilled for half an hour. Finally crept to bed and slept like the dead. The boys were good. They didn’t disturb me.
I woke energised. Today has been better. Mum is still utterly doolally but I think we are getting somewhere. I spent most of the afternoon getting her arm x-rayed and re-plastered and re-x-rayed… I now have a job as a hospital porter, I’m very good- can direct lost folk if required, and I know a lot about fractures. And dangers. I asked so many questions, demanded to see the x-rays… the registrar asked if I worked in the hospital.
Ma and I had a hilarious conversation… She hasn’t lost her sense of humour…
Ma: ‘When your father arrived this afternoon I asked him where my Mother was. He said- ‘She’s in heaven…’ and I said, ‘Oh… is she?’ She looked at me with a wide eyed innocence that made me want to pull her to me and crush her in my arms.
Me: ‘Oh… and what did you say?’
Ma: slightly exasperated… ‘As I said, Oh… is she?. And then your father, slightly crossly, ‘She’s dead. She died twenty years ago.”
Me: ‘Oh… and what did you say?’
Ma: ‘Oh… yes. I think now… I remember.’ She looked at me and added, ‘He wasn’t being cruel… He was just giving me the facts.’ And she chuckled. I joined her.
When we got back to the ward we were told she had a new bed. I packed up her stuff and followed the hospital porter. He took us the back-route short-cut through wards and corridors and lifts you wouldn’t know existed. It was like being on the film set of ‘The Adjustment Bureau.’ Amazing…
And now I’m home… writing this. The boys are back from their Dad’s, earlier than I thought, via Pat and Sam, and I’m glad. We’ve chatted, shared information. Think I’m going to get some sleep. Maybe post a poem… Hope I haven’t depressed you too much. I’m OK. She’s OK. He’s OK. We’re OK. It’s life. We’ll get there… wherever ‘there’ may be…