Thursday

Lesley’s dad’s carer today was the other half of the team of two that we’d introduced to him. There’s nothing he likes more than someone new to talk to and telling someone how to do something. He’s taken to these guys amazingly well considering how much moaning he did to anyone who would listen at his day centre last week. Nothing much to report on this visit. He was unexpectedly slow waking up and accepted more help than usual getting dressed. He also declined a bath but it turned out that was because he’d got his days muddled up. He thought today was a day centre day and that there wouldn’t be time. Otherwise, it was all good and he was able to be more active throughout the day than had been recently.

The visit to Mum was a bit of a rollercoaster. Tears, laughter and everything in between. She wants to go home. Of course she does. But she was lucid enough to know she can’t. That’s what made her cry.

She told me yesterday that her bum was sore. She told me today that she was in “great pain”. Then she said she was alright to Juliette. That was the only good bit about the visit. Juliette has finished her induction and is back with her “family” upstairs. She didn’t transfer from the old home immediately. She took some time off before going back to work and looked all the better for it. She looked so happy to be back with her ladies.  But it’s good for Mum that she’s back properly. Mum recognised her and it was Juliette who got the smiles out of Mum. We talked about Mum’s weight loss. Most of the recent notes about Mum’s lunches are one word. “Asleep”. Everybody has experienced Mum’s trick of looking like she’s had a good swig of a drink without taking anything in now.

Mum started talking about her Aunt Doris but I couldn’t understand what it was

“Do you see much of Doris Mum?”

She looked at me like I was an idiot and said “She’s dead!”

And then…

“I miss her. I miss her more then anybody”

I managed not to say that so are all the other aunts and uncles she talks about and they’re in and out of her room like nobody’s business or that her mum’s there all the time so why wouldn’t her younger sister be?

I asked if I’d told her the news about her grandson getting engaged and buying a house.

“No!? Oh that’s good!”

Then she asked how Nicholas was

“He’s alright Mum. I’ll tell him you asked after him when I see him”

She was aware of the noises in the lounge

“Sounds like your tea’s on its way Mum”

“When it comes, you eat it”

I was expecting that bloody risotto again

“Ooh! Look! It’s ravioli!”

She tried a bit and spat it out so I tried her with an egg mayo sandwich. She had half of a quarter.

“Try this Mum”

“What is it?”

“Ravioli. You used to give it to us when we were kids”

“Oh!…. It’s nice!”

What’s the singular of ravioli? Raviolum? Raviolus? Anyway, two quarters of a raviolus later…

“Don’t want no more. You eat it”

I did get her to eat all her yoghurt and she nearly finished a cup of tea. Then I had the drinking/not drinking game with her milkshake.

The Other Person in the room with us today was her nan. Her mum had ben there earlier but had “just popped out”. I had to promise to speak to her mum before I left.

“I will Mum. It would be rude not to”

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