A week in Egypt with my grandma – part 1/2

Seeing someone deteriorate is tough, there's no doubt about it. I still carry with me memories of my active, loving and caring grandma. But for the last three years, she has declined both physically and mentally.

My grandma has been widowed for exactly 30 years, living alone all this time. In the past, she epitomised independence and strength, with my dad emigrating to the UK a year after the passing of my grandad. She'd managed to find things to occupy her time, whether that was knitting or travelling the world and meeting up with friends.

Now, she's distanced herself from many of the activities she used to enjoy and has been housebound for a couple of years.

My grandma’s visits to the UK have stopped, and her car is parked away in the garage, collecting dust. She receives a couple of phone calls from family members a day, but beyond a domestic cleaner and makeshift carer (the 'bouwab' – a caretaker for her block of flats) she rarely sees anyone else. With limited mobility and worsening physical condition, as well as loss of hearing and diabetes, I feel as if depression and social isolation are almost inevitable. Her fridge accommodates only milk and cheese pies – virtually nothing else in sight.

I find it striking to see how much her physical decline has had an impact on her mental state, and vice versa.

The drastic changes all started after a fall in 2015. Following the incident, a doctor visited, did a quick check-up, but that was about it. Subsequent visits to a hospital have been infrequent to non-existent. Now, next to her are two plastic bags with a cocktail of pills and tablets that she's able to impressively keep on top of without assistance.

Even though so much has changed since the fall, somehow, I feel like our family has managed to almost neglect her. Her only child, my dad, doesn't enjoy regularly visiting Egypt, and travelling to the UK exhausts her. And like so many her age, my grandma doesn't like accepting help. So, we carried on living life, aware of the issues but for some reason ignoring them.

In May 2018, I made the trip with Dad to check on my 78-year-old grandma. We wanted to see for ourselves where she was struggling, how we could help and what we could change.

In the short periods of time I've had to 'care' for her (in a very loose sense), I've already experienced how draining it is to look after someone.

In the first couple of days since arriving I did little more than offer her water, adjust her bed or refill her bag of cheese pies, but I'm already exhausted. It takes lots of patience and other qualities that many people find challenging, myself included. Grandma expresses her gratitude to me, and I realise what I've done is virtually nothing. It's just five minutes of effort for someone who I care about.

And in these first two days, I've already noticed considerable improvement in terms of her movement and awareness of surroundings – a product of our company and nominal level of care.

On the second day, Grandma’s only sister came to pay a customary visit. My grandma told us about another fall that she'd had a few days prior to us coming to Egypt, which was news to everyone. In a sense, it was a timely fall. We sat with the goal of finding a solution.

It was clear that my grandma couldn't carry on living alone.

Previously, she'd expressed apathy towards carers, not just because she didn't like receiving help but because she didn't trust anyone living in her home or even visiting for half a day.

Funnily enough, my grandma herself came up with the idea of a care home – it would be the best way to ensure there was someone qualified to look after her, while having other people around for some company.

The next day my dad and I went to visit a care home – which was really a private rehabilitation centre that specialised in physio therapy and care for older people. They had physio therapy rooms, on-site geriatricians, nurses and doctors. They promised social gatherings, three healthy meals a day, a gym, and a carer who would be with her 24 hours a day.

In short, this place seemed to tick all the boxes. We were to take Grandma there in a couple of days' time with the prospect of admitting her while we were still in Egypt for the week. It would give her a chance to adapt without being thrown into the deep end alone.

It had all worked out, so far at least.