The Old Man told me that late last night he had heard some women talking as they left Mr & Mrs CJ’s house, and one of them had said how she was surprised the CJs “employed people like that” — i.e. the two people who harass the Old Man. The Old Man later said that one of the women was Mrs PM.
He needed to cut more half tablets — I had forgotten to get this done yesterday. He couldn’t manage it, and I had to do it.
Then when we had mustered all the tablets for the second part of his morning medication, and I told him to swallow them with water, he didn’t understand what I meant. To him that day, taking this second set of tablets was an unwelcome interruption to his breakfast — but he had already eaten his toast!
At the ATM, with my help he withdrew £20. Later he said that he had meant to withdraw £200, and he was worried that the bank would write to him complaining at his withdrawing such a small amount.
We drove home via Hilltop, and I tried to track down the Old Man’s dentist. There are two dental practices in that locality, not one as I had thought. The Old Man clearly had no idea which dentist he had last used. I asked him, as we passed by in the car, whether his dentist was the one on the corner. Then we parked in the church car-park, and I asked the Old Man whether his dentist was the one on the far side of the road-junction.
“It’s the one by the church.”
“Dad, we’re at the church! The church is behind us. Get out and look, if you don’t believe me.”
“Are we?” he asked in surprise.
After lunch the Old Man was depressed, and he said:
“I wish I was dead.”
At 13:45 the Old Man complained about my shouting at him. I replied that I shouted at him only in his best interests, if he was doing something he shouldn’t or not doing something he should.
The Old Man looked non-committal.
Before leaving for Suburbia Somnolenta, I told the Old Man not to bring his new mobile phone downstairs. He didn’t understand what I meant by “mobile phone”. I went upstairs and fetched it. Then he understood what it was, but he asked:
“Will it work upstairs?”
When I supervised the Old Man’s evening medication session, via the phone, there was a slight glitch: the Old Man had moved the new little oblong box, which contained his evening tablets, and which had been to the left of his feet. The box was now under the smaller coffee-table.
He said it was hard to see what tablets were what “in this light”.
I told him to open the curtains.
“I wouldn’t be able to see them then.” [sic]
But overall, keeping the evening medication in the new little oblong box made the medication session easier.
[Original posting 31 May 2011]