18 02 2014

Lolly sits on the pillow on the hospital bed. Every so often she whispers something to GM, but mostly she draws in her new note pad with her new felt tips. These were bought in a hurry, as a mix up with childcare meant that Lolly had to come to the hospice with GM to see Grandma. There was meeting scheduled with the discharge nurse and Lolly sits quietly throughout the whole 45 minutes.  GM is full of praise as they leave, even when Lolly thunders down the corridor, drawing long glances from the numerous staff.

Later as LML recovers from a hard days playing by focusing on the lap top Lolly builds a bed and lays on the floor. “Me poorly G’anma” she states. GM smiles at her daughter and leans forward to stroke her face. Lolly captures GM’s hand and kisses it passionately before letting it go and picking up a piece of ribbon. “My cannula” she announces and lays there unmoving. GM points out that grandma was actually up and awake today. Lolly shakes her head, “G’anma poorly!” she insists and continues. GM nods, patting her hand.

GM sighs as she draws away, a wave of sadness washing over her. Her strong, robust, fiercely independent mum has become a forgetful elderly woman, struggling with the final stages of COPD. She is naturally frightened and deeply anxious as the hospice assessment has confirmed that she needs full time nursing care .. they will only discharge her to a nursing home.

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