At 07:15+, the Old Man claimed he had no lansoprazole left.
He got out a tablet that was white, so it clearly wasn’t lansoprazole. I told him it was the wrong tablet.
“Don’t start that again,” he retorted. I decided to omit the lansoprazole.
“Disturbable aspirin.” [again!] — but he couldn’t find it. He said his tablets had all “gone wrong”, and he offered gliclazide instead of the dispersible aspirin. “There’s nothing like that there.”
“True true true true true,” he responded at one point, maintaining that he had got the right item of medication.
Finally he found the dispersible aspirin, dissolved it and drank it. But I didn’t hear him stir it.
The call lasted until 07:47+.
The Old Man couldn’t find the “Normulen” box, in which the half tablets of gliclazide are kept. He was probably looking in the wrong plastic box. Then he found a lansoprazole capsule in the Normulen box! I told him to swallow it.
He found a bendroflumethiazide tablet, and swallowed it without being told. (But was this too quick and too easy?) He also found an amlodipine tablet — or so he said — but he couldn’t tell me what colour it was.
“Stop playing games!” he said. Then nothing. After about two minutes I heard him softly groan. After another two minutes he sneezed two or three times, then he coughed. Two more minutes, and I heard some vague background noises. Another minute, and I heard him hang up.
I rang back, and told him I was trying to do my very best for him. When I asked him whether he was looking in the long box for amlodipine, he asked:
“I don’t know where I am.” (twice)
“Oh, I’ve no idea.” — not a comment on anything specific, I think.
We omitted the amlodipine and moved on to the levothyroxine, which he also couldn’t find.
“Oh God, what a life!” He said it again, but more softly, a few minutes later.
He hung up again. I rang back and asked him to look for the co-codamol.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Then:
“I know what you’re saying, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Again I told him to look for the co-codamol, and at once he replied:
“I don’t know what I’m looking for.”
In the background, I heard him say:
“Ah, BLEKE, I wish I was dead.”
The call ended at 09:10. The Old Man hadn’t found any more of his tablets.
I phoned Mrs CJ and she agreed to go round during the day. She told me that she had found the Old Man’s bottom set of teeth behind the coffee-table.
Mrs CJ left me two voicemails that afternoon. The first was to the effect that she had knocked hard — “I’ve hammered and I’ve banged” — on the Old Man’s window but had obtained no response. The second was to the effect that she had phoned the Old Man who had said that he had been asleep, and was now, in mid-afternoon, going to cook some soup for his lunch.
I phoned the Old Man at 18:00. He had had a banana, but had not had his tea. I told him to have a drink of water but he could not find his water-bottle, so I told him to fetch a replacement bottle from the dining-room.
When I phoned again, the Old Man said he had gone to the kitchen for a drink of water. He sounded better. Dehydration is surely one of the reasons why he has been confused and incoherent.
He was not sure what he had had for lunch.
He took the cod-liver-oil capsule and multivitamin without water. I sent him to the kitchen, to fill a bottle with water. First he came back without the water; then he came back with a bottle — I heard him unscrew the bottle-top.
He twice looked in the deep box for his evening medication.
“I can’t see for the light.”
The Old Man took his simvastatin, ferrous sulphate and 2x co-codamol. He tried to put the ferrous sulphate into a cup of water, and he reported that there was a small tablet loose in the box of co-codamol. I told him to put the loose tablet back into the little oblong box.
At 21:30 the Old Man sounded sleepy, and said that he was going to bed.
[Original posting 4 June 2011]