大象传媒

If I could have chosen three words to describe my Gran, they would have been 芒聙聵cheerful芒聙聶, 芒聙聵talkative芒聙聶 and 芒聙聵full of life.芒聙聶 My earliest memories of her are her being small, dumpy, always having a healthy smiling face and a rouged complexion. As I was growing up, I saw her, as not only my Gran but as a friend in whom I could confide, and I invariably did. She would take an interest in my life, always being there for me whenever I had any problems, never judging and just simply loving me for being me, always knowing the right things to say at the right time or having the knowledge of when not to pursue an issue. She would hold my hand and reassure me that everything would be fine.
It芒聙聶s like that famous saying, 芒聙聵all good things must come to an end.芒聙聶 This was the day my world was turned upside down. Gran had been removing the washing in the airing cupboard. The next instant Grandad heard a scream. He dashed to the scene. Gran was lying on the floor and in a state of distress. He telephoned my mother and asked her to come and help. She phoned the ambulance. They arrived shortly afterwards. After persistent attempts to move her, they eventually managed to transport her to hospital.
In hospital, Gran began to change. When you visited her, she would always be lying down flat in bed. She would hardly move, her legs straight down and arms tight at her sides. All of the colour had been drained from her face, leaving her an ashen grey colour. The medication she was taking seemed to be making her drowsy and, when she came around, she started imagining strange things, things she thought had occurred on the way to the hospital, involving an accident and some one being killed and she was the murderer. There was also a nurse who came to help her and appeared to stay with her throughout the night. All of these thoughts kept recurring throughout her stay at the hospital.
The doctors could not find anything physically wrong with Gran. They repeatedly conducted tests, but reached no real conclusion as to why she was not able to walk. She managed with the help of two other nurses transferring her into a wheelchair and could stand on her feet for a couple of minutes. They became increasingly anxious about her symptoms and the confusion she seemed to be experiencing. She stayed in hospital for three weeks until a suitable package of care could be arranged at her home. My Grandad and Mother decided that they wanted her to come home straight away, as the alternative was a residential nursing home. Perhaps if we had known what was to occur next it would have been the best option for her and she might have become more mobile.
My Mother asked to see if she could accompany her on her return but she was not allowed to. Poor Gran! I do not believe that she knew what was happening to her. Once at home, she was escorted to bed by Grandad. She was exceptionally tired and was talking about her past and things that she thought had happened. Carers were going to visit her and help her get dressed, washed and put in her chair in the morning and back in bed at night. Grandad and Mother were to feed her and try to keep her contented. Nobody realised what a big task this was going to be. The carers found it increasingly difficult to get Gran to cooperate and soon discovered that they could not get her up at all. They tried to arrange for hoists to be brought in to get her out of bed. Unfortunately, there was not a small enough one to fit into the bedroom. Gran was grounded in bed and there she stayed for nearly three months. Carers still came in the morning to wash her and generally try to help and make her comfortable. Doctors and psychiatic help were called in as she was permanently stuck in her past and she seemed to be hallucinating, seeing things, people and events happening. She was scared, left on her own like a young lost child. Grandad spent most of the day with her. He was increasingly finding it difficult to cope. She was unable to sleep at nights and eat so she was constantly losing weight and had even begun shouting insults at him. He coped for three months and then begged Mother to phone Social Services, to try and get a place in a nursing home for a while, in order for him to get some sleep. After all, he was eighty and taking medication for heart problems himself.
Social services found her a place about two days later. Poor Gran thought it was Grandad going to the home because she even told the people ,
芒聙聹Make sure that it has a big television for him to watch.芒聙聺
When they came to collect her, they put her into a wheelchair in the minibus. She did not acknowledge anything and just seemed to look straight ahead and not look back. Poor Grandad was in tears and shaking like mad. Mum took him in and tried to settle him. He was going to be totally lost: his wife and companion of fifty six years had gone. Over this passage of time, there had been much soul-searching, agonizing decisions had had to be made and gallons of tears had been shed. This was only the start of much worse to come. Grandad and the family must come to terms with the fact that Gran was thought to have vascular dementia.
January the 28th, 2008. A date I shall never forget. Gran went to the nursing home that day. The home is a large building and Gran had her own room pleasantly decorated and an ensuite. She only needed to press a button for anything and help was always there. At night time the nurses constantly checked on everyone. No one could enter or leave the building without the nurses芒聙聶 knowledge, as people could walk out and forget where they were, like a young lost child.
There were approximately thirty other people staying there. Gran spent most of her days gazing out of the window as if she was continually searching for an answer. There was always calming music or the television playing in the communal sitting room. Nobody seemed aware of it. It was as if they were all were lost inside their own minds. It is ironic that now it was me reaching out for her hand to hold.
When Grandad, Mother and I first went to visit her, she became extremely agitated and distressed. She regressed into her childhood. She was hallucinating and would invariably talk to people whom she and her sister knew from their childhood. Events from her childhood were paramount and the family she had no longer existed. Occasionally she seemed to recognise me but not as her grand child. She became paranoid and depressed, not trusting anyone.
芒聙聹Who are you?芒聙聺
She would often enquire when I came to visit her. There came a time when she refused to eat as she insisted everyone had attempted to poison her. She felt people were watching her. She would make comments that were very random, such as,
芒聙聹Get those little green men away from me. They are here to murder me. Take them away, please.芒聙聺
She could not escape it. Doctors kept visiting her to try and balance her medication to make her feel better. The Psychiatrist asked her what would make her feel better. Her reply was
芒聙聹I do not want to be here any more. Please help me to die.芒聙聺
The psychiatrist replied to her 芒聙聹It is part of my job to look after everyone芒聙聶s well-being. You have a family here who love you very much.芒聙聺
At this point it all got too much for my Grandad and he could not hold back the tears any longer.
芒聙聹Please do not think like that,芒聙聺 he pleaded.
She gave him a blank expression, at which he rushed out of the room crying but she either did not notice or care.
Two months ago she nearly passed away. All she wanted to do was sleep all the time and had repeatedly got infections. One night we received a phone call from the home saying she was not at all well and they did not expect her to live. This was followed by a doctor saying that she did not expect her to make it through the night. We went to see her, although she did not know we were there. She wanted to sleep. She looked peaceful and serene. Why could she not have just slipped away? Her brain was slowly closing down but her body would not stop fighting.

The nurses described dementia as involving three bereavements; firstly when the accident occurs and the patient is taken away to the home. The second is when the brain closes down and there is no recognition and, finally, death. She is back in her routine now. That is until the next time, when the antibiotics can no longer fight the infections.
Gran has been in the home now for over one year and eight months. The nurses are providing her with all the care and attention that they possibly can. On her files she still fails to have a diagnosis. In this time she has changed beyond recognition. She is now eighty one years old, half the size she was five years ago. Now she weighs six stone. She eats little and survives on vitamin enriched drinks. She hallucinates and suffers from paranoia and depression and is clearly not the Gran I used to know. Since the accident, Gran has lost the will to live. If only doctors could help Gran and others like her, when they have clearly stated that they want to die. None of this trauma would be suffered by the person and the families. May Gran soon have her wishes fulfilled and rest in peace.

Post-Script

Gran got her wish on the 11/11/09 (Remembrance Day). At 1.25 she passed away. As she had reverted to her childhood it seemed fitting for her to be buried in the village of her birth, Beckermet, her life having gone full circle. May she truly rest in peace at last.