An important bonus is that while I am off
communing with nature and literature, Jon is well cared for and feeling quite
content. It took some doing, though. I will admit to being a bit of a control
freak, but preparations for this trip really tested my skills at micro planning
and micro management.
Our care liaison at the local authority came round for
a long meeting to determine Jon’s needs and to what extent they would be able
to meet them. Quite a large extent, I am happy to say. He gets visits at 6
am to fit the duodopa pump, at 8 am to help with showering and dressing and
breakfast, at 4 pm as a general check-up (which probably isn’t necessary), at
6 pm to serve dinner, and at 10 pm to disconnect the pump.
We had a steady stream of nurses and nursing
assistants through the door the last few weeks before I left so that they
could all learn how to work the pump, where things are kept, and what must
under no circumstances be forgotten. I left them with prepacked drug doses, an
appropriate number of home-cooked ready meals in the freezer, and numerous lists of phone
numbers and appointments and key points and whatnot – some because I felt it
was necessary, others because they asked me.
In the middle of all these preparations, it became
clear that I was failing to teach Jon how to look after the cats, so
further arrangements had to be made for people to come in and care for them during the first few days of my break, until I could
make it back to collect the kitties.
By the time I finally got here, I so needed a break.
We parted on less than happy terms, I’m sorry
to say. I needed to do a quick supermarket run before stuffing the cats in
the car and setting off, so offered Jon a lift if he too wanted to
get some groceries. He accepted, but turned out to want the electronics
store rather than the supermarket. In fact, he thought I could just drop him
there and he’d take the bus home. Now, 9 times out of 10, that would work fine,
but what if this was that dreaded tenth time? What if I got a call half-way across the country
to tell me that Jon had fallen down in the street, or got on the wrong
bus, or lost his way, or gone OFF and been unable to move – all
things that have happened in the past. So I wouldn’t let him take the bus. That
pissed him off. So I took him to the electronics store and waited while he did
his shopping. That pissed me off. And when it came time for me to leave, he was
still too pissed off to say a single pleasant thing to me, even though I begged
him repeatedly. Oh well, at least one of us soon forgot that. I really need to
stop minding so much and just accept that he can’t help it.
I’ve talked to Jon
several times since I left and have been relieved to hear that he is well and that the week
has brought few challenges. He’d be happy to do this again, and so would I. I
hope the nurses agree.
