It has been three weeks and two days, or 23 days for short, since I cuddle my mother, spoke to her and told her how much I love her, since that time my world has crashed down around me. On the 7th June 2011 at 10:35 Granny Bea, our Purple fairy...Mum lost her battle with her demons.
I feel rotten, void of all strength both in body and mind, I'm very angry and very sad at the prospect of not being able to hear her wise words or quirky phrases. The telephone call I received on that day will haunt me for the rest of my days, because it told me that my best friend had gone. Now in normal circumstances if I was feeling any of the above the first person I would turn to would be my mum, I always did, because she was my inspiration and the one thing I needed to survive my demons, albeit a scary shadow on the wall or to the craps of the modern world, she was there for me. She was also there for my children, my wife and everyone who knew her......she was the majik, she just didn't realise it.
That Tuesday evening when me and my wife, Ali arrived at her house, it wasn't empty, far from it. Seven bloody Tribal chickens determined to eat me, two cats that upon seeing me instantly went into alert mode half expecting the K9 pack that generally follows me, a budgie that had managed to poo in the same spot for what must have been an age and created a leaning tower of poo that is now touching his / her bottom .....22 days later he still hasn't been cleaned out........its a very impressive bit of work. Finally a maddy-moo, who looked just like I felt. As far as Maddy-moo was concerned, Womkin has popped out with some funny smelling hoomans and was coming back soon and as each door was opened I too began to think the same, then pray that she would, knowing all the time that she wasn't here. Had it not been for Ali I would have sat in the house for days still waiting.
Wednesday was a blur, so much planned very little done, as Each item of clothing, kitchen ware or used tissue was moved it became a precious memento, the smell of her perfume the aroma of flowers would tidal wave into a flood of emotions. I was broken, tired of walking because every time I stood still I would be wailing again, My heart Physically broken, I was dead. I had no idea what i was doing, how I was going to do it ....everything.
The coroner calls to introduce himself, seemed a nice guy. Had a lot of medical questions that should have been on the doctors report but was incomplete...interesting that. I had to tell him everything that was wrong with her and why she was under the "care" of the GP. As the information supplied by the GP had seven ....7 unknown markers. By the end of the conversation with the Coroner he almost wanted to thump the doctor. As the day passed by, little snippets of information were discovered about DR KING or Twat bollox (TB) as he shall now be referred as. The fact that the last post she made was to inform peoples that she had tried on FOUR occasions that day before she died to get TB , who was on-call, off his backside and travel 5.5 miles to her house because she has fallen several times and was having dizzy spells. On the last phone call she made she became so frustrated she told TB not to worry and that she would carry on as normal, then hung up on him. Poor TB became so traumatised by her actions that when BF called he told BF that he was refusing to come out because A) she had hung up on him, 2) That he knew nothing about her illness and III) that he had advised her to call back in the morning and get her own GP to come out as she was working that day. SORRY interrupting your pizza, your casual viewing of an item on Ebay, It's your bloody job, To say I was seething would be an understatement I was ready to rip him from every inch of his skin. I still am, however I would not be "Beloved son and heir" if I did that, I would be a savage animal and more importantly I would've let mum down.
With regards to A, 2 & III, there are some interesting points that I feel I need to clarify.
A) Did TB feel so important that he was so deeply offended by a poorly 59 year old woman that he HAD met before & could foresee that he would be in grave danger if he attended her address.
2) Apparently not knowing anything about my mother he was previously able to prescribe anti-biotics to her to treat a chest infection, Had been the GP she had seen on appointments made due to her problems, where all the information was / should have been on her medical records, is this standard practice for a GP to provide this service with no knowledge of the patient? and even if he didn't know her, he has a duty of care to either find out the information before coming to a conclusion on whether treatment is suitable or not or as stated in the GMC guidelines should contact the patients own GP to refresh or clarify any medical concerns. It would also be interesting to see the report he made detailing his rationale for not providing treatment or declining to treat a patient. If he could be bothered to have written one.
III) no reply for this statement is needed, it screams out Lazy bastard.
I knew that one day this would happen, I know people die, but this was avoidable. very much so, the coroner calls again with the cause of death, Lobar pneumonia ....apparently this is not commonly observed in present times because PROMPT treatment can be administered, this almost underlines TB's failing as a person let alone as a doctor. I am however blessed that I was able to spend time with her up until two days prior to her death. I have no regrets, guilt is a demon that festers inside of you. Some will have this and unfortunately that will be their problem. I am unable to help them because i can just about look after myself. I have been offered counselling which is all well and good, but I haven't stopped talking about it, I've told complete strangers my woes I'm not afraid to talk about her death, I'm afraid because she has died, and selfishly she was mine. I was happy to share her because she needed to be shared to help other people to provide a service of Majik. People say I'll get over it and things will get better...I know thank you. But it won't I'll get better because I have to, I'm responsible for my family It's my duty. but i will not get over it, because It's what I am, I am my mother every ounce of my body has been created by my mother, the pure essence in me is my mum. I loved my mum, and she loved me wholeheartedly. She told me all the time that I was the reason she was alive.
Thursday was a horrible day, so much to do, having to choose coffins and all that jazz, I don't want to be here. Appointment with solicitors regarding her will.... feel sick, My chest aches, am I having a heart attack, no my hearts still broken. Get back to somewhere and the safe sanctuary of the hive. Have a blazing argument with a lovely lady from Captial one, all i wanted to do was to ask them to stop phoning my mums telephone, as there were 38 missed call from them, does that constitute harassment? That evening Me and Ali are sat In a cold lonely house then things became weird. without any prompting, both me and Ali get up and start looking for things, what things we have no idea, we had both become puppets, controlled by ? very strange journey that evening and it must have been gone 3 til we both gave up and had to go to bed.
Friday I was dreading, having to return home and tell Bestest boy Ben and Pixie princess ruby the terrible news about their Granny Bea in charge of majik. Each passing minute of the 179 mile journey would send both me and Ali into a dark cloud of the unknown, unknown of the reaction of Ben. i was less worried about Ruby as she is only three and the full impact of the devastation would be lost on her, for now. Ben however would be a different story, As i saw his taxi from school arrive my heart fell 100 floors, the moisture in my mouth went in an instant. i was petrified about having to break this beautiful boys heart Without thought I went outside and went to the taxi drivers window, quietly informing him about not picking him up on Monday, or for the following week. I almost cuddled him into the house and sat him down of the sofa. Ruby came running in Shouting "Granny Bea's D..". Reflexes have never been so sharp in a swift move I cup my hand over her mouth and she is ushered out of the room. He knew, I knew.... What Ruby was about to say....I could see the tears well in his eyes, .......................................he knew. I didn't have a clue what to say and was working on pure luck as I opened my mouth......." Ben, Granny Bea's been very poorly .......I'm sorry I have to tell you this by she died.." I then bawled my Eyes out and sank my head into Ben's chest, He's crying and then stops, then the in most mature gesture he starts to rub my back and says "Don't worry Daddy, We'll look after you" I cannot describe how I felt in that empathetic moment displayed by my son, a ten year old boy, who had lost the love of his life, His Granny Bea, someone who would spend an entire day making Fat ball with him, so they could feed the birds, or covering themselves in coal dust, in order to become today's Eco-warrior. He had the same relationship with her that I did, complete devotion. An adult who allowed him to be expressive in the way children should be, acting silly, having fun and not being told to stop being an idiot or to shut up, She never said those words to Ben at anytime. Ben seems o.k., He's a bit distant and goes out into the garden, i can hear a faint song coming from him and as i get closer to him, he's watering the strawberry hanging basket Mum had helped him plant the week earlier. He singing "I love you Granny Bea........I do......I love you granny Bea ..it's true... When you're not near to me, I'm Blue....OH granny I love you" followed by "we always used to sing that to each other all the time, She wont be able to sing it to me again", He then crumbles, It's sunk in....His despair triggers me and I tell him through blubbed speech, "she will, everyday, you've just got to listen"
Saturday/Sunday ....... is like a hang over without the grog, Numb from the head down the whole family just sit and stare at anything that catches the eye line, Not really looking. The only break in the silence is the giggle of the Pixie, playing with her best friend Maddy-moo. Can you believe that Maddy-moo just jumps up onto the trampoline and has a workout, she's like a mountain goat. Early night Shattered.
It is my wish to keep this blog going, as I have found other articles (Pre-tinternet) that mum had written, & we would like to share with you. Thanks for reading
Love and peace
The Turner Tribe x
