When I contacted the Old Man at 07:25 to supervise his medication, he asked me whether I had left some things on his pillow. I said not. First he asked whether I had left on the pillow a plate with a picture of Queen Elizabeth (the Second, presumably) on it; then whether I had left some books on the pillow. I told him we must proceed to sorting out his morning medication. “Oh God! You’re not listening to me!” he complained, in almost a whining tone of voice.
When I phoned the second time, he clarified that the “books” were the passport belonging to his sister. (As far as I know, she never had a passport.) It was dated “the [eighteenth] of [October]”. (That was the birthday of the Deceased Lady — surely not a coincidence. However, the Old Man never used to be able to remember what the Deceased Lady’s birthday was; I used to have to prompt him.)
After a few difficulties, I managed to get him to take the right medication.
I assured him that I would be back with him in a few days, and “reminded” him (as agreed with Dr K on Friday 9 April 2010) that one of the doctors from the GP surgery would be coming to his house on Tuesday 13 April 2010 for the “follow-up” appointment.
The next time I phoned the Old Man was shortly before 18:00, when I told him to take another co-codamol. He sounded sharp and alert, but he did not mention Dr K’s visit.
[Original posting 12 April 2011]