The Knock On Effect

I was wrong of course, about my mother being home soon. She would spend around two and a half months in rehab.

I went back to work after having settled my mother in.  The logistics of living in Jersey were not great and she wanted to see me every day, but I managed every other weekend.

IMG_8247That was the time the when-the-chips-are-down-good-friends start rallying around, taking supplies to my mother on a daily basis and providing moral support. I don’t know how I would have managed without them.  Especially Jane who was visiting on an almost daily basis and also sorting out my mother’s laundry.

Living one hour flight, followed by a 1.5-hour drive away from my mother, it was not easy, but the pressure I put on myself, as well as my bank balance, to fly over and be there for her as much as possible was immense.

My life took a nosedive. I was juggling my own life and my job with hours of bedside vigils and discussing my mother’s future with hard-nosed consultants whose bedside manner was not going down well with my mother.

I became apathetic and dare I say depressed. My mother was completely oblivious to what I was going through. In her mind, whatever I was doing for her, was never enough.

Most weekends I would be at her bedside, returning to work on the Monday, deprived of sleep, drained, both mentally and physically, which is what 3 GP’s had thought was wrong with my Mother in January 2012. My work was suffering and my social life had trailed off because I was never around at the weekends.

Next … Rehab and Reminiscing

Thank you very much for visiting my niche-less blog! If you have time before you leave, would love you to tell us what you think. All the best, Tessa Barrie

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: