Morning medication went quite smoothly. I reminded the Old Man that today was Thursday, the day he went to the lunch club. He was surprised that it was Thursday, but not in the least disconcerted at the thought of going to the lunch club. He must have forgotten that, on 8 April 2010, he was disinclined to go there ever again.
I had to phone three times in the evening before the Old Man answered the phone. First I supervised him taking a co-codamol. Then I asked him: “Have you had an orange?”
“I’ve had oranges and an apple and bananas…”
“Where did you get the apple from?”
“The tree outside.”
There is no such apple-tree, but his tone of voice made me reasonably confident that he was joking.
After the main evening session of medication, the Old Man asked me:
“Where are you?”
“I’m at home.”
“And where am I?”
“You’re at home. You’re at your home and I’m at my home.”
He asked why it was that we lived in different homes. “Aren’t I married to you?”
I told him no, he was confusing me with the Deceased Lady.
When I spoke to him half an hour later, to wish him goodnight, the first thing he said was:
“Sorry about the lapse of memory.”
[Original posting 15 April 2011]