The tale of the carer and the nurse.

About a month ago, my father had been struggling with a number of catheter issues for a few weeks. I kept asking if there was an underlying problem but district nurses (DN), the GP and other professionals told me not to worry. I realised there must be a problem as I was asking DN to attend to him so often, sometimes daily. That is not normal.

On the day in question, the DN had breezed in midafternoon, complained there was a mechanical issue with his catheter that we could have fixed ourselves, and with smiles on their faces told me he was absolutely fine; he definitely did not have an infection and I must stop worrying. Well, what do you do if professionals tell you that; surely he must be okay.

Two hours later, my father seemed to be spending an extraordinary long time in the toilet. I knew this as I had heard him toddling out of his lounge and down the passage to the bathroom. But that was about half an hour ago. His TV was still booming loudly throughout the house as he had left his lounge door open. That was strange. I thought: methinks I had best go check on him.

I did, and as soon as I was in earshot, I heard him shout my name in desperation. I told him I was by the bathroom door and asked if he was okay. He growled that he was not. I asked if I may enter the bathroom, that is, was he safely covered up. He explained that he could not get up. This confused me as the NHS occupational therapist has supplied various toilet paraphernalia to aid him in the bathroom. He has a raised seat and a frame surrounding the toilet. He said his arms were too weak.

This was unusual as it had never happened before. He looked quite distressed in his face and seemed exhausted. Now, he is too heavy for me to lift up on my own so I told him that I would have to ask a neighbour to help. I reassured him that I would return as soon as possible with said help. I charged out the house to our neighbour the retired nurse. No answer. I nervously scanned the houses to see who was home and would be able to help me with this unenviable task.

Aha! A neighbour's car was on his drive. I explained my father's predicament and asked if he would mind helping. He nodded and home we came. It was a struggle but we managed to lift him up off the toilet and into a standing position so he could hold his walking frame. I pulled up his pants as he said he had cleaned himself up. We made sure he was stable and he very gingerly shuffled back to his lounge sofa with the two of us acting as his wobble-stoppers. (Just made that word up but I am sure it will become one of my favourites.) It seemed like the connection from his brain to his legs was on a go-slow.

The neighbour was understandably shocked but I was thankful for his help and told him I would keep a very close eye on my father as he definitely did not seem his usual self.

Two hours passed by and nothing untoward occurred. My husband came home from work and as soon as he walked through the door, my father rang his bell. He found my father shaking uncontrollably and called me. I immediately phoned 111 (a lesser emergency number than 999) and told my husband to fetch the retired nurse neighbour (NN). He arrived within minutes while I was still answering the many questions that needed to be answered before any decision was to be made by the 111 operator. Apparently the second he saw the shaking, he stated it was an infection. The next thing I know NN has our thermometer and oximeter and is taking my father's vital observations. He also asked for a blood pressure monitor. As the call operator was telling me an ambulance would be coming but it would take up to four hours, NN was removing my father's outer clothing as his temperature was too high and rising.

I explained the wait for the ambulance was long and to may surprise the NN sat down on the sofa and made himself comfortable. He was going nowhere. He had a job to do. He proceeded to take my father's vital signs every 15 minutes and thereafter remove another layer of his clothing. My husband found the fan and that was blasting chilly air in my father's direction. We thought it best that my father went to lie down on his bed but when we tried to get him to walk to his bedroom, the disconnect between his brain and his legs was complete. He could not even move his feet. We quickly decided to lie him down on his sofa. The shaking was subsiding but he was only replying to our concerned questions with one word answers by then.

I knew my father was in good hands with NN, his carer was on her way and my husband was present to help if needed so I took myself off to his bedroom to collect all his medicines for the paramedics. I also have a printed list of his medicines for times like these. His carer arrived and immediately sat next to him holding his hands. NN was completing his observations every five minutes and my father had far less clothing on than he had started with that day. I was thankful to be in my own world of checking medicines and placing them in a bag when my serenity was shattered by NN coming in with a grave face to ask me about my father's end of life wishes. Well, that was a shock. I had left the room with him very ill but not that ill. I replied to NN and thought maybe I should go and see for myself.

The deterioration in my father within the ten minutes I had been away was truly shocking. The carer continued calmly touching his arm and gently talking to him but he was no longer responding. NN was checking vitals signs every few minutes it seemed. He told me to phone 999 and explain the deterioration. I did so and an ambulance arrived within ten minutes. That was about three hours earlier than was originally planned. The paramedics did their own observations in the home and then also in the ambulance outside. Before they left, one of them stated that they had a very poorly gentleman onboard.

I do not travel in the ambulance with my father as I always did with my Mum. So off they went with blues and twos to our first choice hospital. The consultant phoned me at 3am to explain my father had an infection and possible sepsis and was being treated intravenously with antibiotics. He endured a week long stay in hospital and required two different antibiotics to rid him of this nasty infection. I was sorry he had to go through that but I felt relieved that my gut instinct was right about the infection. I only wish others had reacted sooner.

Our grateful thanks go to our incredible NN and my father's wonderful carer who were amazing to observe. They both truly suit their vocations. The nurse and the carer.

PS:

NN is retired but is one of those who will carry on working in the job he loves until the end. He volunteers at a local hospice. I can just imagine how suited he is to that work as he is a gentle soul with a real pride in his profession.

My father's carer is an amazing woman who loves her work and is pushing herself to achieve great things in the care world. If anyone can do it, she can!

We are so grateful to have these two in our lives.