Chapter 41
Ruth had agreed to meet Martin at his Dad's care home on Friday at 11:30 am. She arrived a few minutes before the appointed time and sat down on one of the sofas in the lounge to prepare herself for what was likely to be a confrontation. She hadn't visited with Christopher since his arrival in November, and if she were to assist Margaret with their affairs, she needed to get a sense of his condition, to assess whether he would be returning to Portugal within the next few months or if he would live out his days in London.
Punctuality was a trait that both she and Martin valued, and sure enough he walked into the lounge at exactly 11:30. The room was empty save for the two of them, giving them some privacy to talk. He looked well rested and confident, but then he always appeared confident. She greeted him affably, "How was your trip back?"
He nodded in her direction and looked around the room before sitting down in a chair across from her, "Good, uneventful."
"And how are you doing?" She knew that interactions with his parents were always accompanied by anxiety and that he had to steel himself emotionally in order to manage. He would likely tell her he was "fine", but his body language would reveal to her his real emotional state.
Martin responded as she expected and then commenced with the subject uppermost in both their minds, "I'm fine. I've talked with both Dad's surgical consultant and his neurologist. He is currently stable, but is resistant to rehabilitation. He is under the impression that he is able to perform tasks that he is currently not able to do, such as getting up and walking. As you know this is a common cognitive challenge after stroke, and it hinders his cooperation to rehabilitation."
His bearing was rigid as he leaned forward and summarised his father's condition, and he had adopted his professional demeanour to shield his vulnerability to his parents' thoughtless attacks. Why could these people never see what an accomplished man their son was; it both puzzled and angered her. They were lucky to have him. She wouldn't need to offer him any words of support, not at the moment at any rate.
She rose and hoisted her bag over her shoulder. "Yes. I understand. Shall we head on in and see how he's doing? No point in putting off the inevitable."
"No"
Together they walked into Christopher's room, where he was sitting in his arm chair watching a golf match.
"Dad?" Martin addressed him. "Good morning."
Christopher waved his arm, signalling that he should stop talking. "Important putt coming up. We need to keep quiet while he concentrates."
Ruth looked at Martin warily. Christopher's comment took her by surprise. It was obvious that he was delusional, thinking they were in the gallery on the fairway watching the match in real time. Had he really suffered this much brain damage?
The two of them waited while the player took his putt, then Martin picked up the remote and turned off the television.
"What are you doing?" Christopher bellowed.
"Dad, we've come to see how you're doing."
Christopher quickly shifted his attention to the present, "And it's about time you showed up here. I keep telling your mother to contact you. I need to get out of this place. These people have no idea what they are doing or who they are dealing with. I'm an important surgeon and they treat me like a child."
Martin ignored his father's outburst, and summarised the reality of the situation, "I've talked with your consultants and it is felt that you have not achieved enough progress to enable you to live on your own."
"Nonsense. I'm perfectly fine, and your mother can help if need be."
"No. Mum cannot help. She isn't physically strong enough."
Martin had brought his medical bag with him. As a surgeon, he was not in the habit of carrying any medical supplies with him when he wasn't on rounds, but this morning he packed up a small bag with the equipment that he felt would be useful in examining his Dad. He pulled out his stethoscope. "I'd like to examine you. Let's see if we can get you up on the bed."
He stood over his father, "Can you stand up?"
"Of course I can."
"Well then. Hop to it."
Christopher struggled to pull himself out of the chair, but was unsuccessful.
Martin stepped out into the hall and flagged down an aide to help and the two of them were able to lift him to his feet. "Let's see you walk to the bed."
With the support of both Martin and the aide, Christopher was able to shuffle to the side of the bed, where Martin and the aide helped him to lie down.
As he lay down, he noticed Ruth standing in a far corner of the room. He pulled himself up on his elbows and bellowed at her, "What are you doing here? Come to gloat at my situation?"
Ruth approached the bed and raised her eyebrows as she responded, "It's nice to see you as well Christopher. I spent the holidays with Martin and his family and he told me about your health issues. I thought I might be able to help out."
He started to shake his head, muttering, "Terrible business, Martin married to that fisherman's daughter who keeps spawning one whinging, snivelling brat after another."
Ruth shot right back, refusing to let Christopher disparage her great niece and nephews, whom she had grown to love, "Martin's children are lovely, polite and affectionate. It is your loss that you will never have the opportunity to enjoy their companionship."
Martin had pushed his father back down full on the bed and started to do his examination, trying to listen to his father's heart and then listening to his carotid and vertebral arteries, but he quickly stood up and barked, "Would you two please stop talking. I am trying to listen to your heart."
Suitably chastised, both Ruth and Christopher held their tongues whilst Martin finished his examination. After watching his father's difficulty in rising from the chair and in walking, he particularly wanted to assess his strength, and satisfied that his father still retained some strength in his legs and that he would be able to stand and move his legs if he were willing to work, he stepped back and gave his father an ultimatum, "Dad, it is unlikely you will be released from the care home unless you are able to ambulate on your own."
"I am able to walk on my own. I've just been sitting too long this morning and couldn't warm up. Haven't you spoken with my consultants? They will tell you I am fine."
"I have spoken with them and they tell me that your condition is deteriorating, that you are uncooperative and unwilling to work with either your physical or occupational therapists."
"This is ridiculous. I insist you have me discharged so that your mother and I can return to our home in Portugal."
"If you could afford round the clock nursing care at home, you could go home tomorrow. But I have reviewed your finances, and you no longer have the means necessary to afford such care."
"Nonsense. You forget that we are living in Portugal. Expenses are much lower there. I am sure we can find an affordable live-in health aide if that is actually necessary."
"Perhaps. Mother should look into that. A better alternative would be for you to work with the therapist here to regain the strength in your legs so that you could ambulate with a walking frame. You might need an aide to help with personal hygiene and dressing, but that would be a much lower expense than a full-time nurse."
Ruth felt the need to interrupt. "Even if the cost is manageable, it will take some time to make the arrangements. You would be well served by making the most of your time here until Margaret can find appropriate help in Portugal. Work with the therapist, get stronger. It might not take that long if you put your mind to it. And it's better than having to go home in a wheelchair."
"Humph." Christopher grunted with a scowl set firmly in his face. Ruth could tell he wasn't going to admit she had a point. He never could admit that either she or Joan might be right.