Diary of A Modern Gran | Family Emergency

By Jane Corry

llustration: Istockphoto

I’m afraid there isn’t time to talk about my grandchildren this week. But I can talk about one grandparent. And that’s my children’s grandfather. My dad.

Some of you, I know from your letters and emails, are like me. We are lucky enough to have grandchildren but we also are lucky enough to have elderly parents.

In fact, I just have one. My mother died in her 50s, not long after my parents’ divorce.

I’m getting a bit personal here but this column has been going for a while now and some of us have got to know each other quite well.

My sister and I have always known that there was going to come a time when our father and stepmother couldn’t manage on their own. After all, my dad is 99 in two weeks’ time.

A few months ago, we managed to get them to reluctantly accept some help around the house through Adult Social Care. Neither of them like people coming in (“We can manage on our own” has been a continual refrain over the years) so this was a big break-through.

Then, this week, my stepmother had a fall in the kitchen while unloading her delivery from the supermarket.

It didn’t seem too bad at the time. Ironically, it occurred just after my eldest son and I had visited them.

But the fall ended up with her going into hospital, after an extremely long wait for the ambulance which I won’t go into. It can’t be an easy job but I have to say that a 3am trip into hospital isn’t easy either for someone in their 80s.

Meanwhile, my sister and I are three hours and six hours respectively away from Daddy and our stepmother. We did try to persuade them to live near us a few years but as I said, they’ve always been fiercely independent.

And now there’s a real problem…

How on earth is our father going to manage on his own? He has spinal stenosis and can only just stagger from his chair to the bathroom. My sister’s husband has recently had a very bad accident which means she can’t leave his side. And I’ve developed a persistent chest infection which I don’t want to pass on.

Instead, I spent hours on the phone, calling various agencies but all are full up or understandably, need to have done pre-assessments. Eventually our wonderful carers who had already been coming in for one hour a day, found enough staff for emergency round the clock cover.

But it doesn’t help the mental side of all this. Our poor dad is finding it very hard without his wife and rings every ten minutes to ask me if she’s alright.

“Is she still alive?” he asks on one occasion. I’ve already explained that her fractured bone is not life-threatening but he needs constant reassurance.

He also wants to know when she’ll be coming home. But no one seems to know.

Meanwhile, my sister and I are ringing the hospital and being transferred to one department to another because phones aren’t always being answered and everyone is busy. Apparently, there isn’t a phone by my stepmother’s bed but when I eventually managed to get through to her ward – which took longer than you want to know about – a lovely nurse offered to let her use her mobile to ring my dad.

As I write this, we are trying to get my stepmother assessed by the hospital Adult Social Care team so we can arrange for the right care when she is eventually discharged. Luckily, the staff say she is “comfortable”.

In the meantime, the bill for the 24-hour emergency care (not covered by Adult Social Care) is mounting up.

“What?” Daddy gasps when I explain how much it’s going to be.

But it’s worth every penny. There’s no way that my father can be left alone. I also have to take my hat off to these kind carers who have stepped in at the eleventh hour. There isn’t even a room for them to sleep in. The second bedroom is taken up by the house cat plus litter tray (no bed) so the carer has gallantly agreed to sleep on the sofa.

Meanwhile, I feel very sad that I can’t visit myself because of this chest infection which shows no sign of going away.

“Tension?” asks my husband.

I don’t think so. I’ve always been chesty. In fact, I sometimes think that’s why I was a writer. I used to spend hours in bed getting over bronchitis pneumonia and would pass the hours by reading my parents’ adult books.

My sister, her daughter and my three adult children have all been ringing Grandad in turns to try and cheer him up. But he’s so deaf that it’s hard for him to understand. By the way, we did get an audiologist round last month but my father was vehemently against having his ears waxed or accepting a hearing aid. (“I’m not having something put in my ears.”)

I’m not sure how any of this is going to end but it makes you think, doesn’t it?

When I’m old, I tell my children, put me somewhere sunny and find me a handsome male assistant so I can dictate my novels.

I’m only half joking.

What You Say

Thanks to reader Nicola who sent this in, after my column on sports days.

“I can sympathise with your feelings about being chosen last for teams and also coming last in school sports races. I suffered that fate myself when I was young. What was probably even more upsetting, was the fact that some of the older girls were laughing at me.

“At the age of nine, having come last in two races, I declared to my mother that if I finished last in the next, I would not enter sports day next year. She declared this to be a most unsporting attitude. Personally, I think it was just as unsporting of the older girls to laugh.

“Fortunately, I acquitted myself quite well in the final race, which was the Potato Race, so my threat was never put to the test!

“I remember being thankful that Sports Day was not held at the grammar school I went on to attend!”

Agony Gran

“My granddaughter is fifteen months old and is still not walking. Her dad (my son) was walking at a year. I suggested to my daughter-in-law that she should talk to the doctor about this but she took offence and said that I should mind my own business. Now I don’t know what to do. I live about two hours away and generally see them every six weeks.” Name withheld

Jane says:

“We do sympathise. I remember my own mother giving me advice when my children were young. I ignored it, I’m afraid, because I felt it was a criticism of me as a parent. Now I realise she was just trying to help by passing on her own experience. If I were you, I’d sit tight. Carry on talking to them on the phone or Facebook or however you communicate. Try to act as though there hasn’t been a quarrel. If the opportunity arises, you could say to your daughter-in-law that you are sorry you interfered. But try not to make this a big deal.

“I suspect that your daughter-in-law’s reaction might have been because she’s worried herself even though lots of children walk late. (My daughter was 18 months old before she took her first step.) If your granddaughter still isn’t walking in a few months’ time, your son and daughter in law will probably seek help themselves. At the end of the day, they are in charge. Our job as grandparents is to be there when we’re needed and to provide continual love and support, come what may. It’s a tall order at times. But it’s also rewarding. Good luck.”

The Funny Things They Do Or Say

Thanks to Bob for sending this in.

“My seven-year-old grandson loves telling jokes. This is his latest. “What does an ice cream say when it’s too cold?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

He beamed. “I scream!”

“Of course, I knew the answer. But I didn’t want to spoil his moment!”

Grandparent of the Week – Gill

Thanks to Gill for sending this in.

“I’d spent many years as an infant/junior teacher. So I felt I was in no rush to be a grandparent and be with children again. I certainly felt I was way too young to be called ‘granny’!!!

“Then early one morning, I got that much anticipated phone call from our son! I’ll never forget it. We were so emotional and got in the car almost immediately to drive three hours down the motorway to see her. From the minute we set eyes on her, we were besotted!!

“Our first grandchild was born a week before Covid struck so we managed to get to see her for a few days before lockdown. How we missed her! Instead, we saw lots of pictures and videos and as soon as lockdown rules were eased, we sold up and came to live near her.

“From then on, it has just been the best! We have got to spend lots of time with her and have relished grandparent duties. We take her on the beach, play with her, go to playgroup and music time as well as lots of visits to local attractions. Her favourite is the local donkey sanctuary. The extra time we spend with her living locally, means she knows and loves us and enjoys coming round to play at ours and for meals. We have re-learned the idea of imaginative play, rolling on the floor with her and laughing.

“How we giggle at the things she wants us to be and the funny things she says! We draw and colour with her and she adores water play with loads of different containers. We glue and stick and she loves singing.

“Parenting has changed a great deal so I don’t try to give advice as they are doing such a wonderful job.

“Our lives have been truly enriched by this special little girl. It’s something we would never have believed or anticipated. We are so lucky to be a granny and a ‘Bompa’ which is the name she calls her grandad.”

Looking For A New Book To Read?

You know she’s lying. But so are you.

If you’re looking for a new book to read, you might want to try Jane Corry’s latest Penguin best-seller, WE ALL HAVE OUR SECRETS. Available from supermarkets, bookshops and online in Paperback, eBook and audio.