Monday

An inauspicious start to the day today. Lesley’s dad’s carer called. If everything is fine then they may send a short message on WhatsApp when they get home. If there’s a non-urgent question then they’ll send that on WhatsApp while they’re still there with him. If it’s dead urgent, they’ll phone us.

“He’s a bit confused this morning. And he admitted to falling yesterday. I couldn’t see any bruises when I bathed him though. But when I woke him he kept saying “6:02, 6:02…”. I told him the time was 7:35 but he kept repeating “6:02”

“We didn’t know about a fall! His Careline should’ve called us if it detected a fall.”

“Yeah. He’d taken it off…”

But the carer had managed to get him ready for his lift to the day centre without any further issue.

“I don’t know if it’s the new meds but he seems a lot less wobbly this morning. His movement is a lot more controlled and positive.”

The team at the day centre got alerted and they reported later that “6:02” was the time when he thought someone had rung his doorbell. Without his hearing aids in he can’t hear the doorbell ring when he’s upstairs so this had to be another nightmare.

But the staff at the day centre were also concerned by his confusion.

“We think it might be a good idea to get him checked out for a UTI.”

“I’ll call his GP now then.”

When I got to The Home I found that Mum was much more with it today. She knew who I was and was pleased to see me.

“Thanks for coming to see me after all this time.”

“I’m here every day Mum.”

She clearly didn’t believe me but then why would she? I was sure she hadn’t recognised me at all last week.

There was a milkshake and some squash on her table. Both hardly touched.

“Would you like a drink Mum?”

“Yes please!”

“Let’s start with the milkshake. That’ll do you most good.”

We got both drinks drained in the space of an hour. She managed to eat a single fruit jelly but the effort in doing that left her quite tired.

She stayed engaged while I told her my news – trip to the dentist, dog walks, terrible weather – and read a couple of chapters. She even made the effort to speak clearly when asking for more drink.

Only at the end did any Other People appear. The first was a little girl. It was someone she knew but couldn’t remember her name or where she came from. Soon after that an aunt appeared but I couldn’t make out the name. Just before I left her a member of staff walked past the door.

“Was that my dad?”

“I don’t think so Mum. I think it was a nurse.”

All in all it was a decent visit. Mum was alert and relatively content. Comfortable most of the time too. In the early days of an Active phase she’ll get a stomach ache about 20 minutes after eating anything substantial. The milkshake was enough to trigger that.

After I sent out the update to the family, Brother asked if Mum might be up for a video call sometime soon.

“I wouldn’t rule it out. The window when she’s going to be able to cope with one is undeniably narrower than it used to be though. And I won’t be able to predict when that window will be until her schedule settles down again. This cycle does feel different from the last one. I can’t tell yet whether it’s like the one before that yet. I’ll have to re-read my notes to see whether that last one was just a massive blip or whether it was a step on the way to a new ‘normal’.”

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