I slept long this morning for the first time in years. The past few days – the past few weeks – have been exhausting.
My Mum is still in hospital but (hopefully… I was only told this by a ward nurse) the major tests (including both an MRI and CT scan on her head) have come back clear. I spoke to a doctor yesterday who said is might well be an adverse reaction to the cyclizine she’d been taking to control her nausea. In older patents, the doctor explained, “cyclizine can send them absolutely bonkers”. On a side note, I like doctors who talk like that. I think it conveys real expertise since they don’t hold themselves aloof on their authority (like some do) but have the confidence to plunge back into life wanting to be understood. It’s something I’ve always noticed by the best professors and something I’ve always wanted to emulate myself. The power to communicate clearly and with a little humour is badly underappreciated in life.
The doctor also said the effects of cyclizine are normally reversible but I’m not going to feel easy until I know my mum is less confused. Then again, she is now on anti-sickness medicine and I wonder if any tablet she takes won’t be making her a little confused. My mum treats half a paracetamol as though it’s some exotic draught from Kubla Khan’s pleasure dome that eases you down the River Lethe. On just one ibroprufen she is woolly headed and then there was that antihistamine tablet she took years ago where she pretty much slept for three days.
I am feeling somewhat bad about the whole situation – as though it’s all my fault – but in my more rational moments I know I tried my absolute best. We thought we could control the nausea until she could see somebody to examine her neck (the appointment would have been this morning).
So much for my best intentions…