Nursing Home

By Nick Gilmore

Published: 23 Oct, 2024

Tuesday

Mum was half way through a milkshake when I walked into her room this afternoon.

“John!” she said to the carer who was helping her. “It’s John!”

“No Mum, it’s Nick.”

“Hello Nick. Would you like to assist Iris?”

“Yeah. I’ll get her finish that. By the way, John is my dad’s name but she has no memory of him so she most likely thinks I’m her Uncle John.”

I took the carer’s seat.

“Hello Mum. Can you give me a minute while I have a look in my bag? I think I’ve left my phone at home. It’s got my shopping list on it and I’ve got to go and buy our tea after.”

“You’ve forgotten your phone!? You’re a right twerp.”

I’ve got Mum’s Echo on my Amazon account so she has access to my audio books and music and I can control it remotely.

“Alexa. Drop in on the living room.”

Mum could hear Lesley’s voice as I got her to have a hunt for my phone. She didn’t recognise it and seemed to think it was just another of the Other People who were already there talking. She ignored my conversation with Lesley and carried on talking to the Other People she could actually see around her.

With the phone located and my fear that I’d dropped it on my way to the car eased I returned to Mum.

“Ernie’s been!”

“Has he Mum? That’s good! I haven’t seen Uncle Ernie in a long time.”

Her Uncle Ernie rarely gets a mention. When Mum talks about her mum’s family it’s usually Dick, Tony or Terry and even the staff at The Home know all about Uncle Tom.

After a few sips of milkshake Mum started getting concerned about sharing it with the Other People in the room.

“No. Give it to them.”

“What I’ll do is ask round the room to see who wants a milkshake when you’ve finished this one Mum. They can have their own that way.”

“Alright.”

With the milkshake finished, Mum carried on talking. She was actually more distinct today than she’d been in a long time. However, as usual, even when I could understand decent portions of each sentence the critical bits identifying who she was talking about and what they had done were still a mystery.

“{indistinct} turned up but the girl didn’t. But another one came. I quite liked her.”

“Oh! Well that’s alright then.”

Then there was a story in which the only word I understood was “money”.

“No need to worry about money Mum. They run a tab for you here and at the end of the month they let me know what it is and I settle up for you.”

“Ooooh! That’s a very good idea!”

“It is, isn’t it. That way, you never need to have money in your room so nobody can pinch it. If anybody asks for money, just tell them to sod off.”

“Yeah.” she said, settling back with a satisfied smile.

“How much was it?”

“Not much Mum.”

She settled back again.

“There’s a pot of yoghurt here. I’m guessing that came with your lunch. Do you want any of it?”

“Nope.”

“OK.”

“Where’s Terry?”

“Don’t know Mum. I haven’t seen Uncle Terry in ages.”

“Is he staying the night?”

“I don’t know Mum. He never tells me anything.”

“Oh. I’ve been very disappointed with him.”

“Nah, don’t worry. He’s alright.”

Mum then told me about someone else doing something she’d disapproved of. It may have been her Aunt Doris but I had no clue what she’d done. She carried on talking until she saw movement out of her window in another wing of The Home.

“There’s people in the house at the end there!”

“Are there? Oh yeah!”

“Is Tony with them?”

“Can’t tell Mum. I can’t make them out. I’ll find out on my way home and if he’s there I’ll tell him to come and see you.”

She carried on talking until she was distracted again. This time by something only she could see in her bed.

“What’s this?”

“I’m not sure Mum.”

She carried on fussing with her sheet and blanket.

“Where’s the other half!?”

“I can’t see it Mum. Hang on to that bit and the rest will turn up I’m sure.”

By now, Mum was flagging. She lay back and closed her eyes.

“You look like you need forty winks Mum.”

She just nodded.

“I’ll go and have my tea then.”

Another nod.

I dropped in on Lesley again to let her know that I was leaving. She said her Sister had arrived at Dad’s from several time zones away.

“She says she’s confused by his meds.”

She would be. And not just because she’d been awake for 22 hours straight. The carer this morning said Dad had dropped the whole box earlier.

It’s not helped by him not being able to use the box properly. He’s OK with the morning section even when there’s no help there with him because he’s been in that habit for many years. The problem comes later in the day. If he actually thinks to take his painkillers later – and he often doesn’t – then he’ll take them from any section of any day. It’s like he’s not just unaware of what day it is, he also seems to be unaware of whether it’s lunchtime, dinnertime or bedtime.

More likely his dementia has left him unable to recognise the link between the significance of a row and a section in a row relating to a day of the week and a time of day. The link between the first section of each row and the morning meds for each day was established before his dementia was a problem. There’s an added dimension to this impairment. For the morning meds he’ll take every tablet and capsule in the first section. For anything else, he’ll go to any old section of any row he sees fit and may not take everything that’s there. I find that oddly intriguing. It’s fascinating how memory works because it’s so weird in the way it fails when it’s a partial fail. Perhaps that fascination is why I had such a long career in software testing.

I saw Sean on my way out of The Home.

“Your mum’s been very active again today. Lots of talking.”

“Yeah. I know. She still seems quite happy though. I think she’s going into a Sleepy phase now. Lots of Other People with her and she’s seeing Other Stuff in her bed too just now. Fidgeting and fussing with her bedclothes is a sure sign she’ll be asleep all day tomorrow. She is on schedule to be asleep tomorrow too. I might get the day off.”

“OK. And she was shouting a lot last night too.”

“A lot? For me?”

“Yeah.”

“OK. I suppose that’s fair. I thought she thought I was her Uncle Tony yesterday afternoon. I thought it would be him who got yelled at for not going back in the evening. Perhaps she knew it was me after all.”

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

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