Wasting.

My mum's been in hospital for over a week now. Only a few days after we returned from Basingstoke she decided that she didn't feel like getting up anymore. She got up on the third day because my sister threatened her with a visit, and Mum told everyone she was fine again. Then my brother Edward rang her and she admitted she had a pain in her side and she was shaking uncontrollably. He called an ambulance. When the paramedics arrived she insisted there was nothing wrong with her. Luckily my other brother Barry arrived and asked her where it hurt and she immediately pointed to her side. If it wasn't for the actions of the pair of them, I have no doubt she would be dead by now, because when she arrived at the hospital they discovered she had pleurisy and pneumonia. They drained over two litres of fluid from her lung. 

We thought it might be her heart: she had a pain in her side, shortness of breath and swollen feet - all symptomatic of cardio problems. But her heart is strong. 

But she's not eating. She's not drinking. She's sleeping a lot, even when people are visiting her. Her voice is hoarse and weak. She never answers her mobile, and when you ring the ward the phone rings out. Edward and Barry are on the scene, but they can never find a doctor to tell them what's going on, or, properly, a nurse. I've never known this. She seems to be getting worse under their care too. 

My sister is heading down tomorrow. Perhaps she can get some concrete information. 

My mum has been ill before, but she's rallied, and bounced back. This time it feels different. She's so small and thin now. So self contained. She's said before that she needs her independence, but this is the outcome. I'm really scared for her. I'm scared for all of us.