Wednesday

I got a report on how Mum had been today from two members of staff as I walked through The Home to her room.

“She’s been very happy today!”

and

“The room’s been full of Other People today. She’s been talking to them all day.”

That second one was Reggie. No matter how strong her hallucinations are, Mum always seems able to conceal them from the carers. She doesn’t bother to hide them from me, other close family or, for some time now, Reggie.

Reggie stayed for ages. We talked about Mum and Lesley’s dad. I started feeling a bit self-conscious that Mum was being ignored. Not that she was worried. She was having several conversations at once with her Other People. I tried interrupting her.

“And how have you been today Mum?”

“Alright”

“Your bum’s not been sore has it?”

“Nope”

“Not at all?”

“Nope”

“She hasn’t been sore has she?” asked Reggie.

“Well, I’m not sure. She moaned to me for a couple of days about her backside but she tells staff she’s fine and they can’t see anything.”

“So you did report it?”

“Yeah. Twice. The second time to Juliette.”

Reggie was called away to help with Eleanor. She was having another bad afternoon. This time she was searching for her ‘boys’. The staff all thought she was talking about her soft toys and told her they were sleeping in her room. I wasn’t so sure. Her four sons had been in recently and I wondered whether she was talking about her actual ‘boys’. Hard to tell. She didn’t even know where her room was.

“Right then Mum. Someone’s made a terrible mess of your bed. Shall we get it straightened out?”

Mum had just started the Rolling Up Of The Bedclothes part of her Peak Active Mum phase. I did my best to remake her bed but she was reluctant to let go completely.

“Are there two of you?”

“No. It’s just me Mum”

“Who’s that?”

“There’s a small pillow under your knees to make you more comfortable.”

“Are you sure?”

The conversation proceeded with some difficulty. I could barely understand a word she was saying. It didn’t help that I was never sure who she was talking to.

At one point she asked what I thought was a question. I gave what I hoped would pass as an answer.

“No! Not you! Him!!”

She’d been talking to someone she could see standing behind me.

“Jean! JEAN!!… Oh blimey. She’s gone to sleep…”

I don’t know who Jean is or was but she was lying across the foot of Mum’s bed.

Mum returned to the conversations she was having with the other Other People. It was time to leave.

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