Forthnights

Mother Part I

Last weekend was probably one of the most trying times for me in my young adult life. Friday night, we headed out north in the car to see my mother. The purpose was to discuss with her our future plans together and where she’s gona live etc. We told her a month ahead that we will be coming, but stopped getting calls from her 2 weeks ago. My brother and I were still discussing where we actually wanted to put her and the issue still wasn’t resolved yet when we arrived. I didn’t know really what to expect, but the moment I saw the house, my heart sank.
The door was ajar, empty torn boxes lying everywhere inside the compound. I had a very bad feeling that something bad has happened. As I opened the rusted gate and walk towards the front door, I caught the smell of urine. Near the front door there was a dry patch of yellow liquid. The entire house looked like there was a thunderstorm that went through. Smelly clothes were lying in every corner of the house, books were oddly stuffed here and there, random things just thrown everywhere. There was no fan or light on, no sign of movement and the house stank of urine and stale linen. But at the end of the house, on the kitchen floor, I spotted her. She was lying down on the dirty kitchen floor side ways. She had no clothes on, except a bra, which strap was slung around her neck in an awkward position. She showed no answer when I called out to her so we hurried to her side. She looked ragged and dirty, and skinny like I’ve never seen her before. To my great relief, she responded. She was shocked to hear someone there, and when we spoke to her and asked her to wear her clothes, she just started babbling away incoherently. No sign of whether she knew who we were. The last time that I met her, she was still able to speak to me, and know who I am, and still had a presence of mind. But this time, she was totally not aware of what was happening.

We tried again and again to put her clothes on, and to get her to go and bath. We could see that she wasn’t taking care of her personal hygiene, her nails were dirty, and she had body odour. I held her by the shoulder to make her get up, but she struggled to get up, as if her body couldn’t respond properly to her command, if she even understood what I was asking her to do. As I got her up, she suddenly hugs me. She held me tightly, as if she finally found someone will save her from whatever horrors that she just went through. My brother watched from the side, as I embraced my mother for the first time in a long long time. In my heart, I was in pieces, thinking what would have happened if we arrived a week later. I doubt she would have been alive. She was very weak, dirty and totally lost herself, not aware of things anymore, and not able to feed and clean herself.

The tried to bath her first and I searched the house for some fresh clothes, if there were any at all. My brother tried to clean her as best he could, and tried to put on her clothes for her. But even that proved to be a challenge. It was like trying to dress a child, but worse. We tried to guide her verbally, asking her to lift her leg and so, but she just continued babbling away. When we told her to lift her leg, she lifted it to the wall, as if trying to climb it, and when we physically guided her leg into her pants, her other leg refused to support her weight and she just went tumbling down on the floor again. When I held her, she stiffened her body, as if someone was dragging her. At this point, my brother couldn’t take it and broke into tears. I quickly took over, gave my brother a hug and told him to calm down while I did it.

I was pretty close to tears myself. Having have to bath your own mother like a child, seeing her not recognize you totally and not even being able to answer a question or wear her own clothes properly has that kind of effect on you.

I held back my emotions and just continue putting on her clothes. She didn’t resist too much. But she wasn’t aware of what I was trying to do for her too. We sat her down on the sofa and tried talking to her again, seeing if there was any sanity left in her. I asked her does she know who I am and who my brother was, she seemed to struggle to answer and said other things instead. It’s very heart breaking when your own mother doesn’t recognize you. We let her lie down on the sofa while we tried to decide what to do. We also tried feeding her some food that we bought, but she refused to eat any. Obviously, she couldn’t be left alone anymore and she needed some sort of medication and care. My brother made a few phone calls to his church mates for advice. In the mean time, we tried searching the house for her documents, IC and whatever money that she had left around. Things were all scattered and we couldn’t find it. We tried asking her but she couldn’t answer us. We tried further but in vein, and decided we’d better bring her to the hospital first.

We couldn’t afford a private one so we took her to the General Hospital in town. When we arrived there, I went down the car to try arranging things with the hospital people first. It was a Saturday, and in the North, it’s a holiday (They work on Sunday’s instead). So the hospital was only opened to visitors and also the emergency ward was open. I went to the counter, explaining what happened and that I wanted to admit my mother into the hospital and see a psychiatrist. But this stupid guy behind the counter was giving me a hard time. He refused to let me see a doctor, saying that unless it was an emergency, I’ll have to wait till the next day. I told him that my mother is mentally very ill and hasn’t eaten for days but he still refused. He asked me for her past treatment record and IC and when I said that I don’t have them, he turned around and starts lecturing me. Said that if I was a responsible son, I would have brought her records, and that would not have left her alone like that. I was ready to just burst out screaming at him but I held my tongue. He further said that the hospital was a place for treatment and not for charity. It wasn’t the place to come if I wanted to just dump my mother somewhere. They couldn’t admit discharged her as we pleased. “We have proper protocol and procedures to follow.” He said. My blood was boiling, but knowing them, I knew I had no chance if I lost my temper. In the most polite tone that I could use at the moment, I said to him that I came here for a solution, not another problem. I respected that they have proper protocol to adhere to, but then I need treatment as fast as possible for my mother. I asked what I had to do to even get an appointment to see a doctor now.

To my great shock, he told me to make a police report. He asked me to go and report to the police that my mother is ill and caused whatever disturbance in the neighborhood, then only with the police report will they set an appointment for us to see a psychiatrist. I was just absolutely furious. Making a police report was totally unnecessary. She wasn’t violent, she needed care! She might not have a fractured skull or bleeding to death, but I definitely think that this warrants proper attention from the emergency ward right? It was definitely more urgent then some of the cases waiting in line. Leg pain, fever, headache. No gushing blood or screaming pain anywhere. Even the fact that my mother hadn’t eaten in God knows how many days didn’t warrant a look from them. I tried asking if a referral letter from a private clinic would do it, but that stupid man behind the counter, (who proudly told me that they stand between the doctor and the patients, and that it was them who decided who did and did not see the doctor) told me to just come back tomorrow. “Unless you make a police report, I can’t help you “(or won’t).

I left the counter and walked back to the car, feeling absolutely disgusted. Disgusted that in our time of need, my mother was turned down treatment merely because of “protocol and procedure.”. I wondered if that man was waiting for a bribe or anything, but I didn’t have time to consider. We had to think where we could get a doctor.

posted by Compulsive Blogger @ 4:42 pm Comments: 0