The Old Man answered the phone very quickly that morning, but he seemed disoriented. I told him to find the lansoprazole.
“What’s that?” he asked. He looked for it, couldn’t find it, and then suggested: “Amlodipine?” — for the first of several times that morning.
We left the lansoprazole until later, and he put the dispersible aspirin into the cup. I told him to get a bottle of water ready.
When I rang back, he had the bottle of water. I asked whether he had the sandwich-box ready.
“It’s underneath,” he replied. [sic — did he mean it was on the lower shelf of the telephone-table?]
The Old Man denied being in pain, but said he felt unwell. He sounded better immediately he had drunk the dispersible aspirin — perhaps he was dehydrated. While mustering the tablets, he volunteered:
“I haven’t had anything to eat today.”
A couple of minutes after being told to get the levothyroxine, he asked:
“Where do I find it?”
He failed to find the levothyroxine as well as the lansoprazole.
I sent him off to get a cup of tea, and breakfast.
At 09:35 he told me that he had had a teacake, but no cup of tea. I sent him off to make one. However, he did sound better.
About ten minutes later, for the first time ever, I heard the voice of “the Explorer”, the toddler who lives opposite. Babbling, he makes no less sense than the Old Man sometimes does.
I phoned the Old Man twice around 09:50, and once at 09:55, but there was no reply.
[Original posting 23 May 2011]