In the morning, I told the Old Man to get out the new deep box, which contained his morning medication.
“The long one,” he said. And he got out the oblong box, not the deep box, and asked: “Simvastatin?”
When I phoned back, the line was engaged. I hadn’t heard him replace the receiver at the end of the previous call.
I phoned the CJs. Mr CJ answered, but it was Mrs CJ who went round to the Old Man’s house. Mrs CJ told me, from the Old Man’s living-room, that he had left the phone at the side of his chair.
“He’s driving me mad,” I told Mrs CJ. Diplomatically, she replied: “I hear what you’re saying.” I said to her that I’d phone her in the evening.
The Old Man’s parting shot:
“You and I will have to have a different system with money.” [sic]
When I phoned that evening, the Old Man said he had had “a tomato” for tea — highly improbable, as he does not like tomatoes — and then corrected this to “a banana”.
Towards 19:55 the Old Man was looking for the little oblong box. He found the sandwich-box instead, and then the deep box. He found the little oblong box quite easily, once he had switched the light on.
(One advantage of using the little box is that, as it does not contain amlodipine, the Old Man is not constantly suggesting amlodipine as his next item of medication. So, all other things being equal, the evening medication session proceeds more quickly.)
After the Old Man had swallowed the three tablets he had taken out of the little box, I asked him to take out a multivitamin tablet and a cod-liver-oil capsule, the bottles of which are not stored in the little box.
[Original posting 1 June 2011]