The Old Man sounded coherent at first, but things quickly went downhill.
He couldn’t find the lansoprazole, so we moved on to the dispersible aspirin — but he told me:
“There’s no such thing, love.”
“Dispensable aspirin.” And he complained that the dispersible aspirin is difficult to get out of the packaging.
He found the lansoprazole – “It’s a brown-and-white,” he said. I told him to swallow it with water.
I told him to get the sandwich-box, and he got the little box instead — twice — then the deep box, then the little box again.
He offered co-codamol; I told him to get two tablets. He swallowed them. I asked whether he had a bottle of water.
“I’ve got a little bit of water.”
Of the Normulen box (which contains the little bottle of gliclazide half tablets) he said:
“There’s no such thing in here.”
“The only oblong box is a wood one.”
“The only box [on top of the china-cabinet] is from MegaGroce.” [sic]
The Old Man found the bendroflumethiazide, and swallowed a tablet.
He then offered this, that and the other tablets. He found the Normulen box, but there was no bottle of half tablets inside. At least three times he told me that the Normulen box was empty.
“I’ll have to look for it [i.e. for the bottle],” he said.
When looking for the amlodipine, he said:
“I can’t find anything. You come and look for it.”
He found the levothyroxine and swallowed a tablet.
At 11:15, the Old Man hadn’t found the bottle of half tablets. He was about to prepare his lunch.
I phoned the Old Man several times mid/late afternoon, but he did not answer the phone. Finally, just after 17:00, I made contact with him. He told me that he had been asleep on the bed, and asked where I was phoning from.
“I’m at home.”
“Aren’t you at work?”
“It’s Saturday, Dad.”
I phoned again in the evening.
I asked the Old Man whether the two tablets he had taken out were the cod-liver-oil and a round yellow-pink tablet [the multivitamin].
“What if they are?” he asked.
He said he’d taken the simvastatin — but this was too quick, too easy.
When we moved on to ferrous sulphate, the Old Man kept telling me to ring back in half an hour, and then ringing off.
Then he insisted that I wasn’t BLEKE, and he asked where he lived, so as to test me.
“I haven’t got any tablets with me.”
“I can’t see where I am.”
“Simvastin.” [sic] I told the Old Man to swallow a tablet of it, with water. He had to go and get water. I heard him coughing in the background.
I told him to take the pink pill [i.e. simvastatin].
“The pink pill on top of the china-cabinet?” — the CCTV delusion again!
Ferrous sulphate and co-codamol went OK.
At the end of the medication session he was quite apologetic. I had just said that I was doing my very best for him. He replied:
“I know you are, BLEKE.”
[Original posting 5 June 2011]