Monday

Paid another visit to The Home this afternoon. As is my habit now, when I signed in I put the name of the person I was visiting as ‘EVERYBODY!’.

And Everybody was pleased to see me. The standard greeting was:

“Hello Nick! How’s Lesley?”

To which the answer was:

“She’s doing OK thanks. Much better now her sister’s gone home!”

For those who had time to stand and chat for a bit I was able to expand on that.

“We know we’re doing better because The Dog’s behaviour has changed. She’s barking at people walking past the house a lot less, she’s not over-eating, she’s more playful. Altogether happier and calmer. She’s less stubborn when we’re out on walks and less reactive to other dogs. Dogs aren’t supposed to understand pointing but ours does. When we’re out in the fields or the woods I just have to say her name so she looks at me and point where I want her to go. She responds instantly now. No argument or hesitation. She just runs where I want. She’s a different dog.”

The Manager in particular was keen to have a good long chat. She teased me about coming back to see “My Ladies”. Then she wanted to know in detail about how Lesley and her sister were coping. If she was trying to hide how little she thought of Lesley’s sister then she failed miserably. She expressed her disappointment at how Dad had struggled to settle during his stay at The Home. She expressed her surprise when I told her that he hadn’t been allowed to. She’d known that Lesley’s sister had been Face-timing him twice a week but obviously didn’t know what was being said during the calls. But Lesley did. We knew that Dad would spend a couple of days calming down and would then get told how horrible the home was, how hopeless the staff were and how everything was being done to get him out. Then he’d calm down again over the next few days before getting more poison dripped in his ear and he’d go through the cycle again.

“He was really disappointed when he was told he was leaving.”

The Manager just sighed.

I headed off upstairs to see My Ladies. Eleanor was happy to chat as if I’d never been away even though she was upset to have been told that her mum had died yesterday. Eleanor herself must be 90 if she’s a day so that seemed unlikely but I expressed my condolences anyway. I always do when Eleanor tells me her mum’s just died. Annie, meanwhile, didn’t recognise me at all and seemed more confused and anxious than ever. And they were the only residents in the lounge. The place seemed especially quiet and empty today. It always does when Audrey’s not there.

Audrey was in her room in bed. Again. I could see from the corridor that she was semi-conscious at best, a little delirious, uncomfortable and fighting against the duvet and blankets.

“We’re struggling to get her to eat and drink now.” the nurse told me.

It all seemed horribly familiar. The nurse knew I knew what that meant.

Bloody hell.

Author’s Note

My Mum was in a nursing home in the Thames Valley for a year and a half until she passed away in December 2024. My Father-in-law went into the same home the following January. But Lesley’s sister didn’t approve and made the situation so awkward that he had to be moved. He assed away three weeks later in march 2025. The image is not of the home itself. I used AI to generate an image of a typical modern nursing home. Names and locations have been changed or hidden to protect the identities of those involved.