sad eyed lurcher of the lowlands

It was the dog that brought it back.

I had a sudden and vivid picture of the granddaughter’s English Lurcher, slowly lifting its head out of my bag when I went to fetch my steth. A mournful expression, like it had seen what I had in there and was profoundly disappointed.

As soon as I remembered the dog I had the whole scenario, in every detail: the carers who’d said Edie was off her legs and stuck in the chair; the GP who’d diagnosed an exacerbation of chronic shoulder pain, and prescribed stronger analgesia, referring Edie to us for physio, nursing, equipment, bridging care and whatever else we could think of; Edie herself, slumped over in a high-backed chair watching The Chase on TV; the granddaughter; the dog.

More than anything I remembered how successful the visit had been.

I’d met up with Jason for the double-up. Her obs had been fine, but because of her shoulder pain she’d struggled to push herself up from the chair. The longer she stayed scrunched up like that, the less likely she was to move, until she’d pretty much seized up completely. For a while it had looked as if Edie might have to go to hospital, but with patience, encouragement and some delicate handling, we’d managed to get Edie out of the chair and moving again. We’d put her to bed where she’d be able to rest in a more appropriate position, and mobilise more readily to a commode. It was all fine. The carers would be coming in as before. The stronger meds would ease things along, and a programme of physiotherapy would help Edie recover her strength and confidence. All in all, a very practical and successful intervention.

Which is why I couldn’t understand why Jason was talking about a complaint.

It had come from the daughter, who lived some miles away. Her view was that her mother should have been taken to hospital, or at the very least been given a bed in a rehab facility. According to the daughter we had failed in our duty of care. She had written to her MP. We had a day to write a statement.

‘It’s okay,’ said Jason with a shrug. ‘I don’t think the daughter really understands how things are with her mum. Who knows what the family dynamic is there? Maybe she heard stuck in chair and thought hospital? Never mind. It’ll be fine. We did the right thing.’

I felt aggrieved on Jason’s behalf. I’ve known him ever since I joined the team. An expert physio, he was friendly, positive, empathetic – in fact, a perfect example of what a community therapist should be. I could see him now, taking the whole situation in, crouching beside Edie, one hand on hers, patiently going over the options, how we could help, what we could try. No-one could have done more, and – I don’t think – could have produced such good results. All this at the end of a long and gruelling day. The injustice was crushing.

Jason slapped me on the shoulder and smiled.
‘Cheer up, Jim!’ he said. ‘You remind me of that dog!’

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