Going Home

Lib, Gord Rob and I visited Lyle on Christmas Day , in the morning, at Dandenong Hospital. Elvie ,Meredith, Roger and Jod went down in the afternoon. He was in quite good spirits and said he was determined to get back enough mobility so that the staff would allow him to go home soon, even if it was only for a short while.
Gordon and I visited him again last Thursday and I thought he was the best I'd seen him for some time. It was obvious when we walked in the door he was pleased to see us and he gave me a thumbs up and said "G'day mate" then grabbed my hand in a warm hold. We didn't stay long. He said he has trouble keeping awake for more than half an hour at a time, but he was looking forward to getting to Casey Hospital at Berwick where he was booked in for two weeks rehabilitation, and would be going there as soon as a bed became available. A call came through to me from the hospital the next morning saying he was being moved to Casey that afternoon. They also asked me could I tell 'his wife'. Elvie must have been outside and not had the answering machine turned on as I couldn't raise her on the phone either.
Meredith's daughter Rosie, a teacher, lives 15 minutes from the hospital with her partner at his parents place, in a bungalow out the back. She has been wonderful while Lyle has been in hospital and visits him every day and collects his washing. She saw Lyle about 4.30 on Sunday, about half an hour or so before Elvie went down with Meredith and Roger.
When I saw Elvie at the farm yesterday, New Year's Day, she told me she didn't like what she saw at Casey the day before. It was all brand new with a lavish garden but in her words it was 'all show and no go'. Lyle looked terrible and said he was too tired to talk to them and he was sorry they had wasted their time coming down to see him, he couldn't stay awake. They couldn't find a doctor and the nurses didn't seem to know anything. His evening meal was untouched, he said he wasn't hungry, and he wanted to go home. Mum said he didn't mean home home, he meant paradise. I remember Nanna Myrt, Lyle's mother, my grandmother, the last time I saw her, as I lifted her into the car taking her from the nursing home to hospital, smiling and with a euphoric glaze in her eyes, saying she was 'going home' .
Elvie and I discussed plans for today, including that I should go to Casey and find the doctor in whose care Lyle now was in, and ask why Lyle was being given medication for Alzheimer's disease, which he doesn't have, and also antidepressants. Roger, a doctor, noticed this, maybe on his chart. A side effect of one of these is nausea which would explain why he wasn't hungry, but would seem to be undesirable in one so frail. Rosie came in while we mulled this over and it was reassuring that she said he was OK when she was there half an hour before the others. Maybe he was just overtired. She was on her way to see him and we asked her to let us know how he was.
Elvie has just rung me saying that Rosie said she found him not good and not eating. I'm going down there this afternoon. I have quite a lot to pick over the next couple of days (the orders are starting to come in) and the girls are busy with flower punnets for the restaurants. It's hard to work with a lump in your throat and tears welling periodically, but probably it would be worse sitting around doing nothing.