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Duke attempts the Impossible

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duke3016:
Now Margaret Ryan was a simple soul, who practically never left the village her whole life. When asked she would shrug and say “why?”. There was no answer to that.

She was slight of build, but boy, could she eat. Her meals were of the simple kind meat, veg and loads of potatoes. When she sat down to eat the sparks would fly off the cutlery and steam would rise from the plate as fork to mouth was at the speed of light.

If you mentioned curries or pasta she would look you in the eye.

“Don't eat that foreign rubbish” she would spit

We were visiting my mother one summer and Gabrielle announced that she would cook a family meal and we of course invited Margaret to join us. Gabrielle was in the kitchen preparing and we were all in the parlour having a chat and the conversation turned to Margaret's dislike of any sort of sauce or condiment other that the base salt & pepper.

“So, you don't like garlic” says Marie
“Hate it” says Margaret

Bugger, I excused myself and went to the Kitchen.

“Gabrielle, what's for dinner” says I
“Chicken breast parcels baked in the oven” says she
“In what” says I
“Homemade garlic butter, why?” says she
“No reason” says I

This should be good then. The dinner was served and the chicken was dripping in garlic you could smell it a mile away. Margaret lifted the knife and fork and proceeded to devour the dinner in her usual fashion.

We waited for the inevitable grimace and were surprised when it was not forthcoming.

“Lovely dinner maam” says she
“Thank you” says Gabrielle
“So Margaret, would you ever even try a bit of garlic” says I

Well Margaret's forehead was beginning to get the sheen of the garlic as she replied.

“Never, it ruins the food” says she
“Have you ever tried it” says I
“No, and I have no intention of it” says she

Before Marie or Ger could open their mouth's I gave them a swift kick and a shake of the head, because they were laughing fit to bust and were about to spill the beans.

“Aye it's overrated” says I

“You fecking eejit Margaret, you've just eaten loads of it” says My Mother
“That wasn't Garlic, that was chicken” Margaret smugly replied

Gotta love her -- Priceless   

duke3016:
When Margaret broke her hip the children found her on the floor in her part of the house, of course at the time we didn't know it was broke. I rang for the doctor and he was not at home but his wife said to bring Margaret up to Feakle as he would be home soon.

God love her she must have been in pain and she didn't complain. I drove up to Feakle and left Margaret in the car while I went in for the Doctor. It was Dr McGuire and he was waiting for me.

“She's in the car Manus” says I
“Let's take a look then” says he

We went out to the car and he did a bit of prodding and summoned me back inside.

“She has broken her hip” says he
“Oh” says I
“Take her straight to the hospital” says he “Limerick would be better”
“Sound” says I
“That'll be £20” says he

No NHS in Ireland but I think Margaret had a medical card but that wasn't the point. I had driven a woman 6 miles with a broken hip on his wife's advice and I was now having to drive her 26 miles to Limerick general. However being the nice polite respecter of the Medical profession I said.

“You can go and feck yourself you money grabbing bar steward” and I left

The fecking cheek

More on Margaret in the hospital and various nursing homes later

Limerick hospital
Raheen and my cousin
Killaloe and the lack of care

duke3016:
When I arrived at Limerick Hospital with Margaret, I pulled up in from of the main entrance and got out with the intention of getting some assistance.

“You can't park here” says a peaked hat jobsworth

I brushed past him replying something about his parentage and went inside.

“I'll have it towed” he roared after me

I went to the front desk and explained the situation and was told to bring her in.

“She's broken her hip” says I
“Bring her in to the triage nurse” says face ache
“She's broken her hip” was my dogged reply
“We'll take a look when you bring her in” says face ache
“What part of broken hip do you not understand” says I a little loudly

Anyway it was like getting a dog off a fecking bone as she was not giving in. So I grabbed one of those large wheely chair things and went back to the car.

“I'll have it towed” says Jobsworth
“Well, before you do give me a hand to take this woman with a broken hip out of the car”

He assisted me in gingerly moving Margaret from the car to the chair and I started to wheel her in.

“I'll still have it towed” he muttered

When we got inside and it was confirmed that she did indeed have a broken hip, they transferred her to a trolley in the corridor. I quickly said that I must move the car and ran outside.

“I'll have it towed”

Sigh, I got into the car and moved it to the main car park and walked back to the entrance.

“I would have had it towed” says misery guts

OMG, I resisted a retort and went inside. Margaret was still in the corridor. I knew they were busy so I didn't think too much into it. God bless her she was just lying there not complaining. After at least 4 hours of waiting, when lesser injuries seemed to take precedence because the patient was complaining long and hard, and asking politely about when she would be seen wasn't working , I decided direct action would have to be employed.

“Hang in there Margaret I will get a Doctor” says I
“Don't bother them” says shebless

I marched up to the nursing station and got extremely loud and extremely angry and would not budge until a Doctor was summoned. I was not for moving and they eventually caved in and a Doctor arrived.

They wheeled her off to x-ray and after the x-ray she was immediately placed on a ward. Now I know they are always busy but their priority seemed to be with those who shouted the longest and loudest. I just played the game.

They were not going to allow me onto the ward, but saw the error of their ways and condescended to let me stay for 30 minutes.

That was the start of a long and difficult journey for Margaret .. more later

duke3016:
When Margaret was moved from Limerick to Raheen hospital you kinda knew that it was the beginning of the end. They never said as much, but Raheen is a hospice really and people sent there at her age didn't usually make it out.

Myself and the wee man went to see her when she was there and she was chipper enough and we were having a grand chat. Her ward was full of “senior” patients and do you know what it's great to talk to them. Despite their ailments they are great people to talk to, their outlook and stoicism is a lesson to us all.

In the bed next to Margaret there was a woman curled under the blankets fast asleep for the whole time we were there. Until dinner time that was. The dinner came round and we were going to leave but Margaret wanted us to stay. She tucked into the meager fayre, at least her appetite hadn't suffered.

Anyway the lady in the next bed came to life, she sat up, her hair all awry and proceeded to demolish the contents of the plate very, very, loudly. God could she eat. She looked like she had come down the mountain for the first time. It looked to all the world like she was from a different planet. All the time she was eating her wild eyes would scour the room defying anyone to come near her. She ate as if someone would come along and steal it from her if she let down her guard.

She finished, washed it down with a slug of water, belched loudly, dropped the greatest fart I have ever heard, rolled over and was asleep immediately.

“Who the hell is that?” I whispered to Margaret 
“It's your cousin” she grinned (She was my Father's first cousin as it turned out)

FML -- priceless

duke3016:
In the early 70's I used to have a tent and sleeping bag permanently in the boot for use at weekends and suchlike to go to festivals or just on the piss.

I passed on burners and suchlike as I would eat out. In all honesty eating on the weekends away was going to be a haphazard thing anyway. One particular weekend myself and Richie Maloney headed for Achill Island. We arrived latish on Friday night and secured a patch of grass belonging to the owner of one of the pubs we went into.

As is normal on the West coast of Ireland it rained on Friday night but we were in good spirits, two pints and a game of pool for £1 might have had something to do with that.

Anyway on Saturday it lashed it down all day. We didn't really care as we were in the pub for the whole day and had great craic. We retired at some hour of the morning intent of sleeping it off and heading for home on the Sunday.

That night was a belter, the rain was incessant and the wind began to pick up as we settled down in our sleeping bags. Now numerous pints of the foaming brew are a great remedy for insomnia as we were out like a light in seconds.

I woke up at some hour of the morning and I felt a wet sensation on my exposed head. I opened my eyes cautiously and all I could see was a translucent bit of canvas inches from my face. I went to sit up and found that the frigging tent had collapsed and was lying flat upon us.

I tried to get out of the sleeping bag but the tent was like a straight jacket and the more I struggled the more entangled I got. I tried to kick Richie awake but it isn't easy to do that in a sleeping bag.

I twisted around and located the zip on the opening and managed to open it enough to crawl out like a fecking caterpillar. It was still lashing it down and as I was already drenched it didn't matter too much. I went to the car and dressed with difficulty into dry clothes before I decided to wake Richie.

As I put on my coat and was trudging back to the car I noticed him struggling in the tent. It was a howl, I left him for a while before deciding to go to his assistance. He extricated himself from the sopping canvas and trudged to the car to get into some dry clothes.

He walked back to me and we looked at each other, then looked at the tent, then back to each other and if as by some tacit agreement we walked to the car and began the journey home leaving the tent and any enthusiasm for camping back in that field.

Never been camping since

Priceless.

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