Wednesday, February 04, 2009

Back Home

When I got Kath home I soon found out how much she had lost during that week. It was now very hard to get her walking with the frame and I had some awful struggles getting her to the bathroom. Our District Nurse (who also did part-time at the hospital) confirmed my suspicions. "I told them what they were doing would make things hard for you," she said. Kath also seemed to be losing her appetite, which wasn't like her and it had me worried.

While she was away I'd bought a secondhand Lazyboy chair because I'd heard she enjoyed the one at Kawakawa, so when our District Nurse called on the Wednesday, she was sitting there in all her glory. So far so good - the toe was pronounced satisfactory.

But when the nurse came back on the Friday (16th February) she shook her head. "This doesn't look good to me." she said. "It looks like gangrene."

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Sunday, February 01, 2009

The Foot

We had been having problems with small pressure sores on Kath's feet - not unusual in the elderly. She wasn't a diabetic but foot circulation weakens when they don't walk very well, and she had become less and less mobile. She had a walking frame now and the District Nurses were coming twice a week.

One sore on the side of her right big toe wasn't healing and the nurses were debriding it carefully. Then on the recommendation of a relieving District Nurse she was seen by a doctor who sliced off some of the slough. Things flared up and about 4 days later she was referred down to the hospital at Kawakawa about 45 miles away with cellulitis of the toe. That was Tuesday 6th February 2007.

We drove down and finally got into A&E. There was a very nice South African doctor on duty there, and in spite of everything I was tickled to see Kath flirting with him. I am grateful for the way he treated her as a real human being, and at the same time gave me that momentary flashback to the mother I once had. Finally, she got admitted to a ward and after spending a little time with her I was free to drive back home.

She was in there for a week. I think they had a bit of trouble getting her settled to start with, but they had seen how tired I was and they told me not to go down, so I stayed away until they discharged her on the following Tuesday.

When I got there she was is a nightie in a wheelchair and I guessed right away that she probably hadn't walked much all week. They didn't have her hair tied up in a little ponytail like I always did (it made her look younger that way) and as I wheeled her out to the car I looked down on the top of her head and realised how fragile it was.

I got her loaded into the vehicle and off we went. Before we had gone very far, she turned to me and said, "I love you."

"I love you too," I replied. "Come on, let's get an ice-cream."

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