After breakfast, I was restocking the Old Man’s sandwich-box and little oblong box. He said:
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, BLEKE.”
He seemed more coherent that morning.
I knocked some oranges off the coffee-table when I moved it so that I could vacuum underneath. This made the Old Man laugh rather like a child.
Some time ago, the Old Man gave me his war medals for safe-keeping. Today, he wanted me to bring them back so that he could take a look at them. Afterwards, I should return them to Suburbia Somnolenta.
The Old Man said he would be lonely when I had left.
After lunch, I drove back to Suburbia Somnolenta.
The evening medication session was the first time that, in a telephone conversation, I asked the Old Man to identify and open the appropriate plastic box by referring to the coloured dots on the box as well as referring to the shape and size of the box.
The medication session went quite smoothly.
[Original posting 11 June 2011]