I was going to tell you how this week Mum wasn’t feeling well when I arrived so I persuaded her to take some tablets, rushed off to Tesco and said I’d be back to wash her and her hair before the Secret Plan Part Two happened.

I was doing battle with the self service scanner when I glanced at my watch and realised I had an hour to finish, drive back, sort mum out, and get her to the community shop.  But I did it.

I was going to tell you how we met a second carer-lady, who mum thought was the first, who was great and Mum loved her. She even let me leave them alone while I went back to the car to make ‘a work call’.

I was going to tell you how I got carried away scooping up leaves outside Mum and Dads house and didn’t hear Dad shouting at me out the toilet window that I was going to be late.

And I wish I’d heard him as I was late to bundle mum in the car and to the hospital to see her doctor.

I was going to tell you about how I managed to get there with 10 minutes to spare to find there were no  parking spots in the disabled car part and the ‘hilarious’ incident where an old, posh biddy in a 4×4 blocked me into the car park because she thought I was about to take a space that she wanted.

I was going to tell you how I may have been feeling a bit fraught by this point and I got out of my car, walked to her window and asked her to move.  And how when she was rude to me, I shouted back.

I was going to tell you about the ‘hilarious’ moment where (now with four minutes to spare), I managed to get Mums wheel chair out the car boot and get the bloody footplates reattached only to discover that in that not-disabled carpark, the pavements had no dippy points, so in desperation I shouted at mum to ‘HOLD ON’, bumped her down at speed, then ran across the forecourt and through the hospital, people parting ways as we zoomed through them, practically landing with a screech.

And I was going to tell you how when we got in to see the doctor (obviously running late.  Obviously), he decided to address Mum directly for the first time by telling her that she ‘might very well have another catastrophic stroke’.  Luckily Mum had no clue what he meant and said that sounded lovely.

And I was going to tell you that after driving 170 miles on Tuesday I got home and Stepson 2 was moving in.

But what I really want to tell you is that that the secret plan was working out and that Mum was looking forward to going out with the lady on her own today, and based on how well they got on I didn’t think it would be long before she could get more involved in Mums care and relieve some of the pressure on Dad and my Sisters. It doesn’t matter how well one day goes though, it can all come undone.  And today Mum refused to see her and I was told to cancel.

And it is SO frustrating as despite everyones best efforts we’ve all overheard Mum telling people how she never goes out or sees anyone or does anything.  So what do you do?

Well, it turns out you rant with your Sisters and lean on particularly lovely friends and hope like hell that something changes.  Because what other options are there?

It was a good, if slightly chaotic Tuesday.  It was a less good Thursday. 😔