Tuesday

Having a Mental Health Day yesterday had given me the chance to catch up on the task of clearing my email inbox. Most of it was newsletters that are deleted without being read, some of it was newsletters that get filed away to be read later (although I never seem to) and only a couple had to be dealt with.

It’s my birthday this month so the emails that needed dealing with were from my GP surgery. I’ve now reached that age where I get invited for annual health checks. I had to submit a blood pressure reading and make an appointment to have some blood tests done.

I took a blood pressure reading. It was high. Not “Oh my God I’m going to die!” high. Just “I’m going to have to do something about this” high. I submitted the reading. A couple of hours later I got another email telling me to submit readings every day, morning and evening, for the next seven days.

I booked my hospital appointment online too. I have to go and give blood samples tomorrow afternoon.

Eldest Sister messaged me to say that she’d be visiting Mum this coming Sunday. I let her know that Lesley’s sister being over here would keep us busy all week and that if Mum stuck to her current schedule then Mum would be at her sleepiest and least responsive that day. She’d be driving for a couple of hours to watch Mum sleep for ten minutes and we might not be around to feed them before they went home. I can’t tell them not to come. If that’s the only day they have free then that’s the day they have to come.

I mis-timed my visit to Mum again today. On my way past the dining room at The Home I saw some of the residents pushing their meal round their plates but I didn’t slow down enough to see what it was.

Reggie was in the upstairs lounge as I walked past.

“Hey! Nick! You’re just in time!”

Mum’s meal had just been delivered. It was that bloody risotto again.

He told me that Mum had been asleep most of the day but she was awake when I went in her room. Awake enough to recognise me. Awake enough to be pleased to see me. Awake enough to catch sight of the risotto as I was preparing the first spoonful. Awake enough to point blank refuse to eat any of it.

Dessert was a tiny 110ml pot of yoghurt. She managed half of it before refusing any more. She managed to drink half a cup of tea too. After that, she shut her eyes and dozed. Presumably so that I didn’t try and make her eat or drink anything else.

Mum was standard for a first day coming out of a Sleepy phase – Unhappy, Uncomfortable, Uncommunicative and Uncooperative.

I didn’t have much news for her. Lesley’s sister had arrived to visit Dad today. I showed Mum the view of him on the webcam. She seemed disappointed that he looked so well and happy.

I offered to read to her but she didn’t look keen so I didn’t bother.

Reggie joined us for a proper chat. His only comment of note:

“Look at your waistband! You’ve been eating too many of Lesley’s cakes!”

Harsh but undeniably fair.

Lesley’s baking binge had coincided with an interruption to my attendance at the gym. My trainer had an arrangement with a local rugby club. A recent change of management there had seen their rates for personal trainers go ridiculously high so we were on a hiatus while he found an alternative. I haven’t done any formal exercise for a couple of months now. I don’t think the extra weight I was carrying would be helping my blood pressure.

Reggie left us and Mum asked “Have you got any stories for me?”

I started reading but a couple of paragraphs in she interrupted me to ask something about her pyjama trousers. She didn’t seem keen on hearing any more of the story so I gave up.

The longer I stayed, the more sleepy Mum got. I told her I’d stop disturbing her and would leave her to get some proper sleep.

Then she was wide awake. Obviously.

Bibliography

Tales from the Parish: 31 humorous short stories about community, family and village life, set in the English countryside

Kindle Edition

by Stefania Hartley

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