There's definitely a clue in this title – don't read on if you're the squeamish sort……
I was woken at 3am this morning – by what can only be described as a truly terrible smell. And given that I was fast asleep, and my bedroom is an entire floor up and half a house away from the source of the smell, well, you can imagine it was of the piercing nuclear variety.
Took a deep sigh as I turned the light on, and that was the last time I breathed through my nose for the next hour.
Poor Mum. There really is not much dignity in getting old, having dementia and no longer knowing how to care for yourself. It transpired that she'd been sick over the edge of her bed (which I discovered the hard way, by treading in it. That patterned rug does a very good disguising job). And had eventually made it to the bathroom but was sitting on the loo, basically covered from chest to knees in poo.
And being both the stoical sort, plus no longer being able to mentally process what to do in literally a sticky situation, she hadn't even tried to call me. And it was everywhere. All over the loo, on the sink, her walking frame, the radiator.. but mostly over her. She had, bless her, tried to change into the spare nightie that we leave in the bathroom just in case, but this too was covered and she was entirely unaware.
Cue time for a major bath, an entire pack of wet wipes, carpet Vanish, bleach and putting a wash on (idiot here peaked too soon, as everything from her under vest down to her slippers needed to go in, it was that bad. Wash 2 is going on in half an hour). I couldn't get the right balance of talking loudly enough so she could hear me and trying not to wake up poor Hawksey, who would be up for work in 2.5 hours as it was. Factor in the ever-hopeful dog and the cat thinking their luck was in for an early bonus breakfast (sorry, girls, not till at least 5.30am), there were at least a few moments of amusement..
And the noxious smell is all pervasive still, despite lots of windows now being open. It should be more than enough to deter any potential burglars.. And I think whatever she had for lunch at the cafe in the park with Valentina today, definitely won't be being had again.
She just looked so lost and out of her depth, sat on the loo, unable to help herself, it's really sad. You wouldn't wish having later years like this on anyone. Still, she is now tucked back up into a freshly changed bed, so hopefully the coast is clear till the morning.
Who'd be 87, pretty much deaf and mostly unable to see, with failing faculties? Such a shame as oldest niece Jess popped round tonight and Mum was really pleased to see granddaughter No.1 (I had warned her in advance who to expect, in case she didn't recognise her). And we'd had a nice chat, perched on her sofa, as she had a little bite of supper. 8 hours later, it all went pear-shaped…
I'm not quite sure there will be much getting back to sleep in my room, but Mojo is now planted in my chest and Scrumpy is snoring with her head on my knee. She had three walks today and is knackered. So it's nice to have some furry company while I cogitate over whether I too need a shower, as well as washing my hands four times thoroughly, which I've obviously already done.
The only good thing is that by tomorrow morning, Mum will have absolutely no recollection of tonight's events. Small mercies, hey? X