I told the Old Man to get a dispersible aspirin out.
“First…?” he asked.
“I’ve just got out of bed,” he told me. The time was 07:48. He drank the dissolved dispersible aspirin.
The morning medication session was very difficult. In one of the plastic boxes he had dispersible aspirin, simvastatin and co-codamol. I told him to take out 2x co-codamol. But (it wasn’t entirely clear) it seemed that the box of co-codamol was empty.
After my breakfast, I told him: “You’re in a muddle.”
“I am,” he agreed. I said that I would come and see him.
The Old Man thought today was Saturday.
When I arrived at Peakville, I found that Mr CJ had mowed the Old Man’s lawns.
Very little food had been eaten since my last visit, and there were few teabags in the pedal-bin. I found an enamelled metal dish with carbonised remains — of soup? — stuck to the bottom. Some of the papers that on 29 May I had removed from the swing-bin had been put back into it. In one of the Sky remote controls, one of the batteries was the wrong way round — and it didn’t fit that way, so it was protruding.
The sandwich-box was underneath a loo-roll and some papers, on top of a pile of papers between the china-cabinet and the telephone-table. It was empty, and all the boxes of tablets were strewn between the pile of papers and the French doors.
The toilet seat had been dislodged — one of the retaining pins was no longer in the hole where it should be located. I managed to fix this later.
The Old Man’s voice was now quavering. I made him a cup of tea.
“Anything to eat?” he immediately asked.
After tea-time, I phoned Mrs CJ to thank her that Mr CJ had mowed the lawns. Her hip — post haematoma — is now mending OK, and she can bend it well enough to play bowls.
While we were watching TV, the Old Man misread “Studio Five” as “Studio Dive”.
“Tomorrow, will you run me…?” he began. I thought he meant run him to the doctor or the shops, but he meant run the shower. And he was quite sarcastic when I finally worked out what he meant.
[Original posting 8 June 2011]