The last four months has seen me persuading the eleventh doctor that I had asked about my mother’s leg to put her into hospital for a much-needed urgent scan, persuading a consultant to scan her because they had decided not to bother after an intestinal bleed, persuading the GP that she did not need four medications and re-formulating her diet to ensure that she would not require further interference, which at this point means that anyone prescribing to her is likely to put her at risk.

We have always followed a policy of ‘the less medications the better’ as my parents were brought up pre-antibiotics, when two of our family doctors were also trained homeopaths who in their later careers still avoided prescribing antibiotics.

Our lives are no longer private.  From a peaceful existence in which we made our own decisions and managed despite the lack of help from so-called-professionals, we are now at the mercy of people who did a course a couple of decades ago and think they know how we should live.  It is frankly a miracle that my mother made it to 90, I am considered so incompetent.

In any case, I can no longer sew in the same room as her, for fear of being accused of making a mess or neglecting her by not standing over her bed.  I cannot leave the room when the nurses appear to give her a five minute injection.  If anything changes overnight I am responsible for it, and if anything improves I am obviously nothing to do with it.  As you can imagine this is intensely annoying.

In the meantime, the longest meeting in history is still being held about my mother.  The system is such that ten people that do not know my mother and who could care even less sit and try to make decisions based upon no relevant information.  I have to tolerate endless visits from people I do not wish to see, and if I try to input any relevant information it is to be used against me, as per the policies of the social work department.  It is not helpful, and it is not very pleasant.

So, as you can imagine, I cannot get much work done at the moment, and since my mother is at risk, I have had to take on some more conventional work in case I end up having to pay for the house.  I am behind with some administrative tasks due to threats made by the ‘professionals’ and I cannot really do anything without someone else knowing about it, which I object to.

Taking care of other people involves giving up control over your life in order to improve somebody else’s.  When you are able to make some decisions this is tolerable, but when these decisions are put in the hands of a random stranger, life becomes less bearable.  I have managed to prevent some of the worst implications of the intrusion into our life, but inevitably something has to suffer.

Particularly with sewing and textile work there is no point in even starting if you are in any way stressed.  Since she came home I have been unable to get to the studio, as I am now keeping it firmly locked, unable to work with chemicals, in case it affects her, and unable to sew because I am so tense that nothing will sculpt correctly.  So, I have taken a sub-contract with Microsoft which does not involve the same level of dexterity.  This is depressing in the extreme, as it means that all future project completions are on hold.

I can only hope that the misery of having to do this will spur me on to finish the games and get them out.  As all the work I did on my own health is now effectively being used on my mother I cannot really afford to keep working on me.  I am very tired, to the point of sleeping if I lie down at all, and I am experiencing headaches and sore limbs because I no longer have any freedom at all.  The room I used to sit in and sew with my mother is now devoted to medical equipment, and so you really want to avoid it if you can.

Even this has been used as a weapon, they tried to insist that I put the furniture back in it before the equipment arrived.  They prevented me from getting her out of bed, and every time any progress is mentioned, somebody has a negative comment to make about it.  Depressing in the extreme.

As my birthday is coming up it is time to take stock, and as such I find I have not done as much as I wanted to do this year.  There are at least three books on hold, two games, the collection for Boris, and the courses I was doing in an effort to create something much bigger for Wolfe.  Nothing is as it should be.

So, my conclusion is to work for a few months, put some money aside to render us a bit safer, and if I am still well enough after that I will recommence what I was doing.  Who knows, perhaps being bored out of my mind doing a job I don’t want to fund our lives despite the interference of a bunch of bitching strangers will spur me on to achieve more in terms of the courses.  Who cares about my health anyway?  After my mother dies nobody.  Nobody considers the loss of control involved in caring for other people, and nobody points it out.  It is a blame game, in which the carer always finishes last.

Mother’s drink incorporates over 80 superfood and wholefood ingredients from all over the world. It includes ingredients to improve mental performance, efficient energy use, the construction of proteins to improve her skin, hair and veins. It is antacid, alkaline and anti-inflammatory. It is designed to use blood to repair using the body’s own defences, and therefore contains a very high level and range of antioxidants. It is very expensive for me to produce.

It is the result of years of observing and testing the ingredients on myself. It is extremely safe and is regularly checked against her medication to make sure it does not clash with her current medication. It incorporates traditional ingredients from all over the world related to the brain in addition to a worthy boost in macro and micronutrients. She is currently getting around 1500 calories per day, and smooth transit is assured via a detox mechanism contained in the drink to dispose of unpleasant elements contained in anyone who has ever been on a ‘normal’ diet.

It replaces Ensure, a disgusting plastic food which the NHS has on contract, which supplies 250 calories from a mixture of salt, sugar and 24 vitamins and minerals (inclusive)

It is also sufficiently powerful to replace the double dose of Omeprazole, a drug which was leaching magnesium, causing pain,confusion and hallucinations. It has also saved her from unnecessary painkillers, which would have hastened her end.

Further, there is no need for the double dose of laxative which accompanied the 500 calories of Ensure supplied to allegedly sustain my mother from the hospital.

As my mother’s appetite recovers, she sometimes wants ice cream, which is supplied from the freezer in the form of a Cornetto, eggs, brioche or trout. She only wants to do this every second day, but this is OK because her nutritional needs are more than being met by taking three of her drinks per day. She is also getting around 8 portions of fruit and vegetables in her drinks, and I have discussed all of this with the dietician who called three weeks after her return from hospital on the off-chance that she was still alive. She was very happy with what I had to say. Likewise the doctor was extremely impressed with her blood test results.

If you don’t like or understand it, I frankly don’t care. She does, and she is doing very well on it.

In the event that you still have a problem, I suggest that you find a senior consultant nutritionist and ask them if they can come up with something remotely comparable that a 90 year old will readily tolerate. When they say no, feel free to drop dead of whatever unspeakable disease your ‘normal’ diet gave you.

I have made this sign for my kitchen, they are still trying to say there is something wrong with it.  Her oedema is gone and she is now able to stand up.

Sigh

This week, I had an NHS nurse becoming irate because Supermix and the raw diet has healed my mother’s stage 4 pressure sore.  It seems to be working on one problem at a time, and this week it decided to heal my mother’s foot before it did anything else.

The first thing it did was work on my my mother’s skin, which was like a teabag when she came out of hospital, thin and full of holes. My friend, who is a retired nurse, topically treated it with a common emollient in addition to her diet.  As a result she is still under all the rules for fragile skin, despite having healed serious bruising from the canula in hospital and having been given sufficient nutrition to ensure that her skin is now back to a glossy and healthy normal.

It then worked on her torso, and she is now moving spontaneously again for the first time in months.  She was always very contemptuous of my raw diet, so it is particularly ironic that it is now the only food she can tolerate, and that it is making such a difference.

Towards the end of week two of supermix and a raw diet, she talked about her brother in the past tense for the first time in nine years.  Whilst we are not seeing huge progress mentally quite yet, she is now capable of pulling herself from lying down to a seated position and completing any exercises I give her.

So, now, with the help of my friend, we are restoring her contact with her legs. Supermix, has, however decided to target her feet and lower legs first, so we still have one wasted thigh to restore to its proper size.

We mentioned the sore to this nurse, who told us to leave it alone as it could not be debrided outside hospital and must be left for months.  Two days after talking about it, the necrotic tissue vanished by itself.  She is literally self-repairing from the inside out, and the NHS, according to this nurse, do not like or believe it.

To the credit of our doctor, I received a phone call this week almost as if she were talking to a colleague.  She had received my mother’s blood test results, taken because I had taken her off three unnecessary and harmful medications and replaced them with Supermix.  She did not need disgusting replacement food because supermix is better.  Once on that, she did not require a laxative or a surgical grade antacid which was causing pain and confusion.

The row started because I refused to allow painkillers for her problem legs, which were wasting due to neglect in hospital. (contracture)  I have now isolated the wastage to the right leg via massage, and we are performing massage and stretching to restore her communication with her legs.

All of this is time consuming and requires knowledge that apparently the NHS does not rate.  I am supposed to be a bad carer, because I did not listen to people who wanted to over-medicate and basically sedate my mother to death.

When the blood test results came in, I told the irate nurse.  I wasn’t triumphant about it at all.  My mother is undergoing full spectrum antioxidant therapy with supported mineral and vitamin enhancements thanks to wholefood solutions as a result of Supermix, and there is no point in trying to explain this to someone who is trained to administer commercial medicine.  My mother’s results are apparently spectacular enough to shock the doctor.

So, evidently all these people who cry ‘Wolfe’ about science, and how health promoters are just trying to sell product, are likely to lose their relatives to conventional medicine and its many failings.

Shit happens.