Sunday

Mum seemed to be well on her way out of her latest hypoactive, Sleepy phase this afternoon. Her stomach ache had subsided and she was much more comfortable. I hadn’t been there long when Sean came round delivering tea. He outlined the options to me and I relayed them to mum.

“Mum? Do you fancy some sandwiches or spicy spring roll and samosa?”

“Neither”

“Sandwiches it is then Sean!”

He returned with mum’s meal a few minutes later.

“Can I get you anything Nick?”

“That’s very kind of you! I’ll try the spicy option then thanks”

“Cup of tea?”

“Go on then”

In spite of some minor protests, Mum managed nearly all of my samosa, a bit of the spring roll, an egg sandwich, four of the spicy potato wedges and all of her smoothie. I hadn’t seen her eat that much in ages. I keep being told residents all eat more if they aren’t eating alone.

Mum said she felt better for having eaten something. With that done, she asked if I had any stories to read. I restarted the book I began yesterday. It seemed to go down well but she wasn’t as enthusiastic about it as she was for the author’s previous book.

Between chapters she had a bit of a moan about nobody coming to see her and that it was nice that I’d come so she had someone t talk to. I thought I’d suggest that her bed got turned round. The rationale for the current setup was so she could see out of the window. But with this unrelenting pissing rain there’s nobody wandering through to the gardens and staff prefer a more sheltered route to the laundry even if they have to lug the bags instead of using a trolley.

So it might be somewhat grim to face the corridor but at least she’d see plenty of people and wouldn’t feel so isolated. Nobody walks past without some form of interaction. Well, they always talk to me at least.

We also went for another lap round the “You’ll feel better if you let them take you to the lounge. You’ll get your appetite back, you’ll eat more and get stronger, your guts won’t play you up so much and you won’t feel so cut off” loop.

She said she would. But when it comes to it, she probably won’t.

Author’s Note

My Mum is in a nursing home in a small village in the Thames Valley. The photo is not of the home. I used an AI image generator to give the reader some idea of the home she’s in.

All, some or maybe even none (you’ll never know!) of the names have been changed to protect privacy and hide real identities. If you think you recognise someone then let me know and I’ll edit the post or remove it entirely