The old dear's getting worse, and on top of the back pain she's now torn a ligament. I phoned her doc in Stockbridge, who says she's better off staying at home than going to hospital or a home.
I phoned her yesterday. She sounded very low. Then I got a call from the Piddledorf Pension Plan, in tears and full of idiotic ideas. Did I think she should send her some bottles of beetroot juice to make her better? I said that's a nice idea, but remember your sister won't take anything that hasn't been personally prescribed by a man in a white coat.
At least the PPP didn't start up with the emotional blackmail "you should get the next plane out of New South Caledonia and go see your old dear." That'll be her next move. Conveniently forgetting that the old dear chucks you out after half an hour - it's all too much trouble for her.
I'm finding it all a bit distressing too, but luckily I've had my whole life to get used to the idea that there's nothing I can do where the old dear's concerned. If she was ever actually in such a bad way that she'd accept any advice or help from me, that's when she would be truly be in serious need of medical intervention.
I called the old dear again just now, and this time she was happy as Larry. Her hubby's health visitor had just come in the door so she asked me to phone back in half an hour. Her sudden chirpiness is encouraging in itself, and also suggests that she's able to snap out of it when strangers call. That's good.
For years we've all been asking why she doesn't get a home help, but she just says she doesn't think she's entitled to anything like that. Presumably because she's not sick enough or poor enough. But in the last phone call I found out that she was indeed offered a home help some time ago, and she knocked it back. Of course now she's desperate enough to ask them for one, they've told her there's none available.
If the roles were reversed, she'd say to me "serves you right."
What a family!
It's been half an hour so I'll call back now. Tally ho.
Update: The old dear was much too happy/busy to talk to me this time, another good sign. But she was able to tell me the health visitor is going to get them a home help, as well as somebody to come and help them shower and dress. It'll take up to 2 months to organise it, but at least something's going to happen.
New drugs the white coat guys have given her: Zopiclone for sleeping or for recreation if you're certain folk. And Ditropan for going to the pan of course.