Nursing Home

By Nick Gilmore

Published: 26 Oct, 2024

Saturday

Today was a tough day all round. Lesley and her sister were taking Dad out for lunch.

Lesley got to his house to find that he’d been unwell in the night again and had had half a dozen trips to the bathroom. He was exhausted. Dizzy, weak and wobblier than ever. Sister insisted that what he needed was to go out for a proper meal but it sounded to me than he was more likely severely dehydrated. He was keen not to disappoint and he’s always keen to prove that he’s not unable to cope so they went out. He must have felt unwell though because he decided he couldn’t manage the all-day breakfast. Lesley was so overwhelmed with worry that when she went to the counter to order for them all she slipped back into the standard routine and ordered him one anyway. With lunch done they took him straight home and put him to bed.

Lesley’s rushed departure had flustered The Dog. She was already showing signs of stress because she’d demanded to go out in the garden at 5am. The standard routine when Lesley goes to her dad is for The Dog to take me on a long, strenuous and muddy walk. But today she refused to even put her harness on. Then, when I did get her dressed, she refused to leave the house. I had to bribe her with a treat to get her to go out. As soon as she’d relieved herself she gave me a ‘Is That Enough? Can I Go Home Now?’ look and turned for home. We had a quiet day.

Day Two of Mum’s cycle seems to be the sweet spot for getting any sense out of her now. She was calm, comfortable and quite talkative. She was still largely unintelligible but she had a fair bit to say for herself. What little I could understand was mostly a worry about money. I thought it was at least.

I used the same standard response that I use each time the subject comes up.

“There’s no need to worry about having money here Mum. I’ve got your purse at home. They run a tab for you and at the end of the month they let me know how much it is and I settle it for you. That way you don’t have to have cash in your room and risk it being pinched.”

As usual, she told me how good an idea that is.

Mum was alert to people passing her room today.

“Who’s that?”

“That was Annie. She’s 101 and still trotting up and down the corridor.”

“Is she!?”

And then a few minutes later…

“Who’s that? Dad?”

“No, that was Annie on her way back.”

“Dad!? DAD!!”

The big success today was courtesy of Tesco Fruit Jellies. They’re not too big and they’re very soft. She ate one. The nurse was gobsmacked when I reported the fact.

“Really!? And she chewed it?!”

Mum never eats anything that needs chewing now. Come to think of it, she isn’t eating much of anything at all.

“Would you like another one Mum?”

“Nope.”

And this was the second day on the trot that I’ve had to go and get more juice. The intelligible bits of what she said that weren’t about money were “I’m thirsty” and “Can I have a drop more drink?”

Overall she seemed in better spirits than she’s been for a little while but that is a very, very low bar.

.

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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