Who is Isabella Kimmett? by Jacqueline Thomson

Who is Isabella Kimmett?

Why is her name linked with an NHS award for Compassionate Care? Was she a doctor or a nurse, a local dignitary or maybe someone of note?

The answer to all of the above is “no” – she was so much more. She was my mum.

When Isabella hit her mid to late eighties and we had reached a stage in our lives where we had a bit of role reversal going on.

I became the person who looked after mum and she became increasingly dependent on my help and support but that was okay and thankfully some things never changed!

We still watched “Corrie” together, shared many a story and a bit of gossip here and there and we laughed our socks off at daft things.

She loved me in the way that only a mother can and I loved her right back! I learned to make tattie soup her way, and she discovered the delights of eating “they fancy Italian dishes that oor Jacqueline makes”!

Unravelling the NHS systems

That aside the sad reality was that although mum was “sharp as a tack” mentally, her physical health was declining and I was faced with the daunting task of unravelling the NHS’s systems for care of the elderly and cutting through masses of red tape to get mum the help and support she needed.

You guys don’t make it easy!

However after wading our way through masses of paperwork, meeting lots of people who promised to help us, mum performing lots of tasks, tears all around and me always by her side, reassuring her that things would be okay even though sometimes I wasn’t convinced myself.  Month by month mum’s home became in her words “a hospital ward”. She had carers (four times a day), district nurses, social workers, physiotherapists, doctors, a key safe, a commode, a walking frame that eventually became a wheelchair, a stairlift, an outside rail, a wetroom and finally as she called it her “alarm necklace”.

She became depressed, in her eyes she had lost her independence, in my eyes all of the above secured her independence. She adjusted and even made lots of friends with all of the professionals who visited her daily. I often wondered if they ever saw the vibrant young woman that my mum once was.

An elegant and beautiful woman with movie star looks, a razer sharp wit and a “tongue that could clip cloots”!

I actually placed a framed photo of my mum as a young woman on the table by her chair to remind these people that she was not always an old woman (see picture above).

Our luck ran out

From time to time she was admitted to Crosshouse hospital with various age related ailments but always came home. In February 2013 our luck ran out…………

Mum was admitted to Crosshouse Hospital. She just felt very ill and had trouble breathing. Everything pointed to her age, in my opinion it was a broken heart as her oldest son had died four weeks prior. She rallied a bit and even managed a wee bit of physiotherapy.

I willed her to get better and held her hand tight hoping I could somehow pass my energy through to her.

How silly and desperate we become that we revert to childhood with hopes of magic powers to make things better.

The sad truth was that I was told by nursing staff that my mum would have to go into a nursing home. I begged the nurse to give me one last chance to get her back to her house. I had everything in place for her, an even more robust care package and, please could she go back to Ayrshire Central for a wee bit of rehabilitation as she had flourished there in 2012………..she said yes!

I had basically signed her death warrant. In a period of eight days in Ayrshire Central mum became uncommunicative, distressed, disorientated and depressed.

I personally witnessed several serious issues of neglect.

I heard things said to mum that I hope in time I can forget. I am still haunted by what mum experienced.

“Mercifully” she took ill. Sadly she slipped into a coma and I never got the chance to tell mum I would fix it for her. She was transferred away from Ayrshire Central Hospital to the safety of Crosshouse Hospital where she was looked after and cared for by the wonderful nursing staff in 5E.   She died three days later.

Isabella Kimmett Compassionate Care Award

So why the “Isabella Kimmett Compassionate Care Award” you may be asking?

Well sometimes in life you come across someone who will not accept being fobbed off with stock standard phrases, pathetic excuses and cover ups.

They will ask uncomfortable questions and expect answers.

They will demand that the faceless management come out of their offices and face the reality of what is going on in their establishments.

They will fight for the rights of their mum even though she is not with them anymore.

That someone is me.

The degradation and lack of care and respect that I felt my mum had received in “a place of safety” at the end of her life drove me and gave me the tenacity and strength to carry on for months and months to fight an industrial size organisation – the NHS.

I am happy to say as a result of this, times are changing, things are improving, complaints are being dealt with in a fair and transparent fashion, better training and systems are being implemented and baby steps are being made to improve care of the elderly.

And so “The Isabella Kimmett Compassionate Care Award” was born in memory of a dignified and proud lady and a wonderful mum.

This week’s blog was written by Jacqueline Thomson, daughter of Isabella Kimmett.

Thank you Jacqueline for sharing your story.