Wednesday

There was no visit to Lesley’s dad from the carers today. They both have full-time jobs and their shifts didn’t fit. It’ll settle down once they get their shifts organised properly, they get a better idea of what care he actually needs and he gets used to the idea of accepting help. It’s going to be a moving target because his care needs are only going to increase.

It’s too early to tell whether it was the care that he’d had the previous two days or whether it was just a good day for him but he seemed less tired and more comfortable than he had been before the extra help started.

It wasn’t all plain sailing. It never is is it? He’d had a visit from a District Nurse to check on what we suspect are moisture lesions. His account of the visit was odd. She’d barely come in to the house and hadn’t done anything so Lesley wanted to check what their account of the visit was. It was entirely different. He’d been fully examined and questioned.

When Lesley spoke to him later he gave a completely different account of what had happened during the visit. An account that matched what the District Nurse had said almost exactly and that without any awareness that Lesley had checked what really happened.

Bloody hell.

I got to The Home just after Mum had had lunch. She looked a lot brighter than she’d done yesterday and said she felt better. It has to be said that she could hardly have been worse though. She was more awake and she definitely knew it was me there with her. She was trying to be more communicative and while not being that successful she did seem a lot happier.

Normally, Mum would be just beginning to get physically mobile at this stage in her Sleepy/Active cycle and she’d uncomfortable because her joints would be stiff and sore two days immobility. Today, she was still immobile but just as uncomfortable.

“Ooh! My backside! Can you move me!?”

She wanted to change her position in bed to ease the pressure but didn’t have the strength to do it herself.

“Have you told anyone your bum’s sore Mum?”

“No”

“Do you want me to tell someone?”

“Yeah”

“I’ll do that now then”

Mum’s milkshake arrived. Initially, she seemed keen to drink it but about half-way through I realised the level in the cup wasn’t going down even though she was making it look like she was taking a good swig. I didn’t accuse her of pretending this time.

“Do you need a rest Mum?”

I gave her a few minutes and then a few minutes more but she kept refusing.

“I’ve got some good news for you Mum”

I told her again about her grandson getting engaged and buying a house. As expected, she was hearing the news for the first time and was more enthusiastic than she’d been yesterday.

Normally, Mum wouldn’t be having hallucinations this early in her Sleepy/Active cycle and there wouldn’t be any Other People in the room with us. Today, her mum was there. Again. She seems to be there all the time now. And there was an extra presence. Her nan was with us as well.

Mum asked if I had any stories so I read to her. A chapter and a half was all it took before she drifted back off to sleep.

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