My original plan. It’s colder today, so I was going to wait until we got near our expected high of the day, do some work outside, then visit my mother.

Of course, that didn’t quite happen as planned. I never got any work done outside at all.

After my morning rounds, I had breakfast and spent some time catching up on my computer, which is working very well again right now. Which is when I found posts on FB from the rescue, talking about Frank!

The intake person still has Frank, and Frank has not warmed up to her or anyone at all. At most, she came out of her hiding place and had a nap on the floor in full view, once.

Well, yesterday, she went into labour, but it was clearly not progressing. They had to take her in for an emergency C section, and managed it only because she had hunkered down into a cat cave. They were able to slide the entire thing, with her in it, into a large dog crate. Once at the vet clinic, they apparently had to use a net to get her!

She had three kittens. Two survived, but Frank didn’t want anything to do with them. Volunteer fosters with experience bottle feeding newborn kittens have stepped in, and as far as I know, Frank is still at the clinic, recovering from surgery.

Poor Frank!

So far, her two baby boys are doing well with the fosters.

Once I saw the posts, I messaged the group chat I have with some people from the rescue and we were talking about her, when my mother phoned.

After our hellos, I told her I’d been planning to visit her later today, after I got some work done outside.

I was promptly informed that she was more important than anything else, and I needed to visit her.

No, she didn’t have any emergency, though she did bring up her ears and hearing problems. I tried asking her if they were doing the oil treatment to be able to clear her ears if it was a wax build up, as she has had happen in the past. She made some disparaging comments about the staff and I knew I wasn’t going to get a straight answer from her.

In the end, she asked me to bring her some Ginger Ale – just a small bottle – and a tube of Voltaren that she wanted me to bring to her and hide from the staff.

*sigh*

My mother had been asking for a particular cushion with a crocheted cover she wanted me to bring to her. I had found two almost identical ones and already had one of them in the truck to bring to her. After our call, I quickly changed out of my work clothes and headed out, just before lunch time. I stopped at the pharmacy to get her Voltaren, then went to the grocery store to find the small bottles of Ginger Ale. I’d considered getting her the tiny pop cans, instead, but a 6 pack of those costs almost as much as a 12 pack of full size cans! So I got her a 6 pack of Ginger Ale.

On entering the grocery store, though, I saw a sign saying their had seed potatoes in stock. I ended up getting a 5 pound bag of Yukon Gold and another of Viking Red, which I am not familiar with. I don’t know if we’ll get more potatoes later on, but we will at least have as many as we planted last year. It depend on what space I’m able to get available.

When I got to my mother’s, I stopped to talk to the nursing station first. The nurse there today actually worked at the hospital while my mother was there and remembered her, though I don’t think my mother remembers her back. I asked about my mother’s oil treatment for her ears, mentioning that my mother had specifically brought up that her right ear is worse. She dug out my mother’s file in their note book, where every shift’s nurse writes down things of note for the next shift, and for the doctor when he does his rounds once a week.

My mother’s file has a lot of notes.

She found the notes from the nurse to did my mother’s ears. She got the mineral oil treatment for three days, then he flushed her ears. The notes said her right ear was clear, and only a small amount came from her left year.

Since it is now confirmed it’s not a wax build up causing the problem, we talked about the situation for a while. In the end, we would have to make an appointment with an audiologist in the city ourselves, but once we let them know when the appointment is, they would arrange the transportation, since my mother would have to use her wheelchair. A family member could accompany, of course.

While the nurse was reading the notes on my mother’s file, she spotted something of concern for me. My mother has a new room mate now. A very frail woman. It seems my mother has pushed her walker and something else of hers out into the hallway, angry that they were … in the way? It wasn’t very clear.

That got me to asking about the possibility of my mother getting one of the private rooms, if one opens up. My mother will always complain about her room mates, no matter what, and she did have one that was apparently aggressive towards her, in the other TCU, but this is about my mother’s behaviour towards her room mates, not the other way around. The nurse took notes about that. We also talked about how my mother is on the waiting list for a particular nursing home. There’s no way to know now long that would happen, though.

We also talked about my mother’s medications, as the notes say she keeps asking about them. It turns out the “extra” pills my mother is getting are just multivitamins. This has been explained to her, but she doesn’t seem to get it.

Before going to my mother’s room, I showed the 6 pack of Ginger Ale bottles I was bringing to my mother, but also told her about the Voltaren, and that my mother asked me to keep it a secret from them. I explained, it’s just for her knees, which she can apply herself. That’s it. They already do her back and hip for her. The nurse agreed that it would be fine for my mother to have some to apply to her knees, herself. I just made sure to remind my mother later that I got her the extra strength version, so to use it only once every 12 hours.

When I got to my mother’s room, there was a cleaning staff member there, offering to take my mother’s lunch tray away. There was a note my mother had written on a napkin that she asked about, and it was for the kitchen staff. She wrote that they were giving her too big of a glass of milk and she couldn’t finish it and didn’t want to waste it, so she wanted a smaller glass. The woman tried to explain to my mother that she can’t write a note like that, or tell someone like her about it. My mother needed to go to the nurse so they can write it down in the instructions for her meals. My mother wasn’t understanding why; she felt writing the note should be enough. Since I was there and heard all this, I said I would take care of it and went back to the nursing station.

After explaining the situation, the nurse got out the folder with instructions for each residence and found my mother’s. She already had instructions to have a cup of hot water to go with her milk, so she can mix them together.

I spotted the problem.

They give her a full cup of milk, and a full insulated coffee/tea cup of hot water. Both are so full, she can’t combine them.

There are now instructions to give my mother only a half glass of milk with her meals, and she will have the room to mix her milk and hot water, the way she likes it, now!

As I was walking back, I crossed paths with the cleaning lady, and she started saying how she is surprise she hasn’t run into me before. She’d worked in our little hamlets single hotel/restaurant/bar for years.

Turns out, she’s a neighbour. She’d been to this farm, years ago, probably while I was still living here! When I asked her name, I did recognize it, though I certainly didn’t recognize her. Too many years have passed.

I told her I’ve been living in other provinces for some 30 years, and we’ve only been back for 8, going on 9, years. Plus, we don’t go out much. 😄

It turns out she knows our vandal quite well and mentioned him in passing, since she sees him all the time and knows how close we used to be. Even as she talked about him and started to cringe, commenting on “how he is” now.

*sigh*

As we were talking, my mother popped her head out of the room and we both greeted her. Not long after, she popped her head out again and told me, “I thought you came to visit ME!” I told her, “I was just saying hello to my neighbour!”

We said our goodbyes and I went to my mother’s room. Her room mate was not there, so we stayed there for my entire visit. As I came in, the first thing she did was tell me to close the door. There is someone across the hall that has his TV on and she found it too loud.

For someone who is having hearing issues, it’s surprising how much it bothers her, because it really wasn’t that loud. She had her own TV and radio on in her apartment when I’ve visited her, much much louder!

The visit went… okay. It certainly has been worse.

She complained about her pills, convinced that they are deliberately messing with her medications because they want old people to just die.

She brought out a list she’s been writing, of how many pills they give her and when, and now they’re giving them to her at the wrong times and the wrong amounts. She wouldn’t let me actually see the list, though.

I told her I talked to the nurse about her ears and she told me the flushing was done by a Filipino guy who says he’s a nurse, but who knows what he really is, and how nothing was flushed out of her ears. I told her, that meant there was no wax build up and explained about needing to get her ears tested in the city. That got a derisive comment about how they are just trying to push responsibility for her onto someone else. Why can’t the doctor do it? I had to explain, she needs to go to a specialist with the training and the equipment for it. A regular doctor can’t do it. She disagreed.

Oh, and she thinks her pills are causing her hearing loss. And eating is causing her breathing problems.

She complained that I brought her a 6 pack of Ginger Ale, when she only asked for one bottle.

She complained that the noise from the TV was breaking her sanity and literally killing her.

She complained that there was a chair in the corner of the room, where she stacks some of her stuff, because it’s ugly and big and doesn’t suit the room and she has asked for a shelf, instead. The chair is not big, not ugly, and all the double occupancy rooms are furnished exactly the same. She just doesn’t want it there.

She tried to make me take a pocket book on the life of Princess Diana that someone gave her but she has trouble reading because her eyesight is going. I tried to politely decline, so she tried to tell me to give it to my daughters. They need to read, too. I told her, we all read. What do we read? All sorts of things. We just don’t have any interest in the personal life of a dead princess. She took issue with the fact that we don’t read the things she thinks we should be reading.

At one point, she actually asked me what was new. I told her, she already knew about the well pump. That was pretty much it. She told me, she didn’t want to know about that, it’s our business. I told her, then don’t ask what’s new if you don’t want to know! She then explained she meant if we watched anything new on TV. I reminded her, we don’t watch TV.

I tried to tell her about uncovering the garlic bed and how they’re already sprouting, and got a lecture about how it’s too early to uncover them because it’s still too cold. Then went on about how, after we first moved here, she had offered to hire someone to plow the old garden area for us to garden in, but I said no. I told her, right… I said no. Because that would not have been a good thing. I tried to remind her, we don’t have a herd of cows with manure we can add to the soil, like she did, and the soil is very poor now. That’s why we are doing things differently.

That got the same response as mentioning the well pump did.

When the door opened and someone assisted my mother’s room mate in, my mother immediately began to complain about the TV. I told her, maybe they are hard of hearing, too? Oh, but then everyone has to suffer. I pointed out that not all people are bothered by it, and just tune it out (which I had already done during). I reminded her that some people always have a TV on, like my in laws did, just for background noise. Oh, that must be why she (my late mother in law) died.

…

I told her flat out that this was a very terrible thing to say.

My mother was completely indifferent and unapologetic.

Needless to say, I didn’t stay too much longer.

By the time I got home, it was late in the afternoon. I finally had my lunch, then headed out to feed the outside cats. I never did get any work done in the garden. I’ll have to make up for it, tomorrow.

I did get more messages from the rescue while I was with my mother, and they are talking about trapping cats. After what happened with Frank, the intake person really wants to get the females done, so no other cat has to go through what Frank is going through. It turns out Princes Auto has an 80% off sale on traps right now, and two people have already picked some up.

When I headed outside to do the second feeding of the day, I managed to get a good picture of one of our most feral females.

View this post on Instagram

We have not named her. I am open to suggestions!

I have not seen Adam or Slick today at all, but this one, and Sprout, who is just as feral, have both shown up. I strongly suspect this white and grey is not nursing, because of how often I am seeing her in the inner yard. I find it hard to believe she didn’t get pregnant, when she and others went into heat in January, which is really, really early for that. Which suggests to me she may have lost a litter. I had no way of knowing, though, and we don’t see enough of her body to be able to tell if she’s nursing.

The second picture in the slideshow above is of the two big traps we have, which I sent to the rescue chat group. We have two others that my brother gave me, but they are more appropriate to catch squirrels, not adult cats. The thing is, if we were to manage to trap a cat, we’d have to get them in somewhere immediately – and we still have to find a way to monitor the traps. The intake person agreed, yes, immediately, but I asked, immediately to where? I have not had a response yet. As far as I know, I can’t just show up with a cat in a trap at a vet clinic and request a spay or neuter. Especially since the only clinic that we’re dealing with (with special rates and arrangements with the rescue) is a 45-50 minute drive away. So where would I go with them once they are trapped?

Other folks in the chat group were talking about coming here, as a group, with traps to get as many as possible for spay or neuter and release. Which would be the best plan, since they would be able to work something out before they even arrived here. The intake person wants me to focus on females only, but there’s no way to pick and choose who gets trapped.

We shall see what actually ends up happening.

So that is where I am at now. A very different day than expected!

I do hope Frank heals up well, and they are able to find a way to get her adopted out. While we are more than willing to take her back, I’d hate for her to become an outside cat again, and it would be too much for her to join the crowd of inside cats we already have.

Ah, well.

What will be, will be.

The Re-Farmer