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Progress of a sort
I think my mother is gradually acknowledging that her life now with my father is not a happy one. 'It's getting a bit primitive,' she said to me a few days ago. I asked her in what way. 'All the piss and shit,' she replied. He is incontinent; he doesn't always get to the loo in time. Even though he wears incontinence pads, shit escapes round the sides when he pulls down his pants to sit on the loo. She clears up the mess, and shit stinks, his in particular, as I've said before.
He needs 24 hour care. Fortunately he doesn't wander out of the house, yet; he isn't aggressive, yet. However, unlike toddlers who gradually become continent, he will not.
Today I phoned the new care home and booked a visit for next Tuesday.
I came across an almost empty carton of Trex in the fridge that was speckled with black, probably mould, as the use by date was Jan 2004.
As I returned from my early walk this morning the paper van drew up outside the house and the man got out to put his pile of newspapers on the front door step. 'Don't put them there,' I said. 'Put them on the pavement like you do with all the other piles.' 'But I always leave them there,' he replied, just what I expected him to say. He added 'Do you live here?'. Yes, said I, it's under new management. Oh, he said, and put the papers on the pavement. So that, I hope, is that. No one can escape change, not even newsagents.
Thought for today
A synonym is a word you use when you can't spell the word you first thought of.
Burt Bacharach (1928 - ) American songwriter
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1.6.06 18:53
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A long walk
Joined a group of seven ramblers today for a 15 mile walk, the longest I've done for years. Knees and feet bore up so I intend to join them again tomorrow for a slightly longer walk. I thought there would be lots of kids in the group as it is half-term, but all bar one were older than I. The oldest was 70 and she kept up a cracking pace. If I'm like that at 70 I shall be grateful.
I went to Sainsbury's when I got back, normally I do so Saturday mornings, so I can join the walk tomorrow if I haven't seized up by then. There were a lot of bulging bottoms in there; the owners must spend too much time on them.
Thought for today
Remember that there is nothing stable in human affairs; therefore avoid undue elation in prosperity, or undue depression in adversity.
Socrates (470 - 399 BC) Greek philosopher
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2.6.06 20:54
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The plot thickens
Tomorrow my parents and I visit the local recently-opened care home. If the place seems suitable I think both of them should be able to stay there. They should have enough money to live there until their house is sold which I reckon should be within the next two years.
Today I carted tons, it seemed, of slabs of marble and granite to the household waste site. More of the floor of my father's workshed is now visible. I also removed most of the ivy that was growing up the sides of the house, and took that to the tip too. The garden looks brighter as a result.
By chance I looked under the microwave oven in the kitchen. What did I see? A charity pen. The house is full of them. I noticed more bumble bees in the garage but, in spite of searching, couldn't see anything that looked like a nest. I am beginning to wonder if they have set up home in the pile of ancient bamboos lying by the left-hand wall; bees and other insects are supposed to like nesting in bamboos. I also noticed that the pointing on the inside of the garage needs attention. Ah me, another job.
Thought for today
Crisis is the result of an inability to adapt yourself or the company to a changing environment.
Guy Dolle, CE f Arcelor, steel company, 2006
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5.6.06 20:35
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Nice place, shame about the price
The care home was impressive but so were the fees--just over £1000 a week for someone with dementia. And I suspect the place would be quick to add on extra costs. It was like a posh hotel. Death was considered a word to avoid, a subject not to consider. What's wrong with death for those in their eighties and demented? Why prolong life, particularly life in inverted commas?
The rooms, the private bedrooms, were big, too big. The chap showing us round stressed the importance of the residents being able to have their own furniture. The ethos was on making the place as homely as possible. My folks' home looks nowt like that. It's tatty, untidy, and cramped, the carpets are threadbare, and the furniture worn out.
The cost was such that if you had to ask about the fees you couldn't afford them. At least we had a free, quite tasty, lunch there.
I'm beginning to think that it might be a blessing for one's parents to die young. Tragic at the time, but not as bad as this. Life comes at a price.
Thought for today
The way to get started is to quit talking and to begin doing.
Walt Disney (1901 - 1966) American animator
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6.6.06 21:21
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Flaming June
Hot day today, and likely to be hotter tomorrow. Groan. I dislike hot weather. Can't understand the lure of hotter climates. I think if I ever went overseas for a holiday it would be to somewhere like Iceland.
The hair on my head used to be brown. It's not anymore; doubt there's a single brown hair left. My head is now covered in hairs of various shades of grey. Ah me.
Walked about eighteen miles today and feel no adverse effects. Took the same route as the group on Sunday and lost the path only once which was good for me. The only disconcerting bit was when the footpath went through a field full of cows. As I approached the gate to enter the field there were the cows all standing by the gate. Fortunately they stepped back as I opened the gate saying 'Excuse me, ladies,' and, though they looked interested in me, stayed put and didn't charge after me. Needless to say I walked briskly till I climbed over the style at the other end. It wasn't that long ago that a woman was trampled to death by a herd of cows.
The care home yesterday was OTT. For the price of a week's stay my father could go on a cruise. For the prices charged he could circle the world for the rest of his days. He'd get board and lodgings, endless entertainment, and not have to provide his own furniture.
After lunch we were shown round again. My father wanted a wee and said so in a loud voice. There was not a loo in sight which surprised me seeing how the place was for decrepit old folk. I asked the receptionist and she directed me down a long corridor. I hoped my father could last till he got there; he walks slowly. The toilet was palatial. You could have held a party in there. I failed to see the need for such a huge room. There was only one loo, one washbasin and one shower in there.
While my father peed, I went to find my mother who had been left behind. When we returned to the toilet and opened the door my father had vanished. He'd gone further into the room trying to find the way out.
We walked down another long corridor and passed a sign which said 'Janitor'. My father said, again loudly, he never whispers, 'Does that say jailor?' and then added, 'When are we going home?'
Thought for today
Willingness to change is a strength, even if it means plunging part of the company into total confusion for a while.
Jack Welch (1935 - ) American businessman
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7.6.06 21:36
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Everything changes
Gradually getting the hang of the revamped 20six site, and have noticed that there have been some comments to my mutterings. Replies to the comments will have to wait. At the moment I'm struggling to keep my head above water. (Actually, my feet out of shit, but I won't elaborate.)
My father lost one of his slipper boots today and wouldn't come downstairs without it. Eventually he did, and sat in his chair with one booted foot and the other bare, and somewhat swollen I noticed. He picked up the gardening catalogue that he's been looking at every day for the past month and soon fell asleep. I found the slipper boot later on in his bed.
Discovered that the garden is in a worse state than I had first thought. There is ground elder everywhere, and ivy by walls with trunks and roots as thick as my arms. However, worse than that is the state of the back fencing which is the responsibility of my parents; it needs replacing. One panel has come out of the concrete posts and is held upright by the netting of the vegetable cage, the metal frame of which is so rusted that the doors fell off last year. It was only when the neighbour opposite poked his head round the fence to comment on its state and ask when it was going to be repaired that I realised how bad it was. Getting access to the fence will be difficult because it is shielded by overgrown shrubs, nettles and ivy as well as the veg cage. All will have to go. This will not be easy. My father likes the garden; he does not want anything changed even though the garden, like the house, is a mess. Sigh.
Thought for today
In prosperity it is very easy to find a friend, but in adversity it is the most difficult of all things.
Epictetus (55 - 135 AD) Stoic philosopher
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8.6.06 20:36
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Hope on the horizon
Fridays are Day Centre days. The minibus arrived as my father declared that he wanted his anorak. There was not a cloud in the sky and the temperature must have been in the eighties. My mother told him that he wouldn't need it, but to no avail. My father demanded it. Where is it? he asked loudly. Where you last left it I expect. That was no help, he'd no idea. Progress has ceased; he is going backwards and has become child-like, a very large one. He came out with the usual retort that he supposed I was not going to lift a bloody finger to help. By this time I had cleared a large area of ivy and virginia creeper from a fence in the back garden and taken three bags of the stuff to the local household tip. It was only when my mother said that she would go upstairs to find it (an effort for her) that I, to save more delay, nipped upstairs and brought down the heaviest anorak I could find. My father, pacified, climbed laboriously onto the bus and off they went.
I went off to look round a house for sale and intend to make an offer on it tomorrow.
On Monday someone from a care home in a neighboring village is to visit to assess my father, and to answer questions I expect. The weekly fees are several hundred pounds less than those charged by the home we visited on Tuesday.
Thought for today
Anyone can hold the helm when the sea is calm.
Publius Syrus (85 - 43 BC) Latin writer
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9.6.06 20:45
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