Wednesday

What we needed today was an easy day. Lesley was still exhausted after a day with her dad at the hospital yesterday. But she had some errands to run and the day got away from us all too easily as it so often does.

I got to The Home just a few minutes before the day shift were due to go home. Luckily, Reggie was waiting to get in the lift on the top floor as I got out of it. He hung around past the end of his shift for a chat.

“How’s Lesley’s dad doing?”

“He’s struggling a bit today. The volunteer turned up to give him a lift to the day centre as usual but found the blinds all drawn and his newspaper still in the letterbox. She was so afraid of what she might find that she went and got the day centre manager to go in with her. He was fine of course but forgetting his newspaper isn’t a good sign. He may just have been tired after the trip to the hospital yesterday.”

He asked how that had gone. I told him.

“And how’s Mum been today? She should be going into a Sleepy phase about now.”

“Ha! No! She’s been shouting again today. Really noisy. And loads of Other People in her room again. It was Barbara’s first time in charge up here today and she couldn’t believe it. I just said Nah! This is a normal day for Iris.”

Isaac joined us and confirmed that Mum had been shouting for me all day.

Reggie walked round to Mum’s room with me, leant in the doorway and said

“Iris! Nick’s here to see you!”

“Is he? Good. He can bloomin’ well…”

The rest of what she said was indistinct.

Reggie and I said “Yeah” in unison and he left to go home.

I don’t know what it says about me but I find it an awful lot easier to get on with Mum when she’s hallucinating really strongly. Perhaps her being in such a good mood helps.

In spite of Reggie having introduced me, Mum quickly let me know she didn’t know who I was and started talking about Nicholas. Later on she said something about my Mum.

“But I thought you were my Mum!”

“Oh blimey! No!”

There weren’t that many Other People with her today but the ones who were there were very clear to her. Her mum was in her usual position by the wardrobe. Uncle George was there too. She doesn’t have an Uncle George. My best guess was that she was talking about the head of the household she was evacuated to in the 1940s.

What was clear today was that she was intent on leaving. Immediately. I told her the weather wasn’t great and that she’d be better off staying overnight. First, she went round the room to check with each of the Other People whether they were content with the decision to stay. Then she asked whether I was going to stay.

“You’re not going home are you!!?? Blimey!”

Mum’s window had been left open and a cranefly had managed to get in. We watched and waited for it to settle so I could catch it. I caught it at the first attempt but it flew back in before I could shut the window. It was a bit more agitated now and took longer to settle. Mum was worried it was going to land on her.

“If it touches me I’ll yell and you’d better come running!”

“If you yell, I’ll be running but I’ll be running the other way!”

There was a lot of laughter this evening.

Mum started telling me a tale which I think was about someone doing something daft that she disapproved of. I couldn’t tell who or what it was.

“Was it you?” she asked.

“Yeah. Sounds like the sort of thing I’d do”

“Oh blimey! Ain’t it alright eh?”

More laughter.

A carer I hadn’t seen before came in to ask if I wanted a cup of tea. He was new to the job and this was his first night shift on Mum’s floor.

“I’m OK thanks. Do you want some tea Mum?”

“Yes please!”

A couple of minutes later…

“Where’s my tea got to?”

“He’s looking up on the system to find out how you like it.”

“Oh”

Her tea arrived. She got half way through it before asking

“Where’s everybody else’s tea? And where’s yours?”

“He’s in the kitchen making it. Your tea’s alright though isn’t it?”

“Yeah”

Mum carried on talking. Mentally, she was at a standard ‘We’re Leaving! Now!!’ stage. But physically, she wasn’t. There was no fidgeting, no fussing with her blanket, she hadn’t rolled her bedclothes into a ball in her lap and she hadn’t thrown her legs over the bedrail in an attempt to get herself out of bed. And she wasn’t showing any sign of going to sleep either.

“How’s Uncle Dick?” she asked out of the blue.

“Don’t know Mum. Haven’t seen him in ages. Shall I go and find out?”

“Yeah. And don’t be long!”

“OK. Sit tight there. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Tomorrow was due to be her Sleepy & Unresponsive day. It was due to be my non-visiting day. I was as certain as I could be that it wasn’t going to work out that way.

Bloody hell.

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