There was no response from the Old Man until 07:40. When he did answer the phone, I told him the time, twenty to eight in the morning.
He thought it was “the night before” — so it was clear that he had slept in his armchair.
We began with dispersible aspirin.
“Simvastatin?” he asked, twice. I told him that he was looking in the wrong box.
“Oh, the square box,” he remarked. “There’s nothing in it.” So he couldn’t have put the dispersible aspirin into that box yesterday evening, as he had claimed to have done.
The Old Man found the lansoprazole, but it wasn’t clear whether it had been in the sandwich-box or the little oblong box. He swallowed the lansoprazole, and again he began looking for the dispersible aspirin.
“Gliclazide any good?”
He found the dispersible aspirin, dissolved a tablet in water, and drank it.
Our second session began at 08:15. The Old Man had to go and fetch more water. He didn’t return until 08:25.
After searching for the Normulen package (which contains the bottle of gliclazide) for a few minutes, he asked:
“What do you want?”
He couldn’t find the Normulen, and he offered lansoprazole and ferrous sulphate. I told him that he was looking in the wrong box. He offered lansoprazole again — clearly from the little oblong box, because he said that it had black [sic] dots on it, and also a label that read “EVENING”.
He offered lansoprazole again, and then a red box with “MegaGroce” on it! Then he offered ferrous sulphate.
“I’ve lost faith,” he said. “I don’t know what to do.”
After a further offer of lansoprazole, he found “amlophóra” [sic]. He swallowed a tablet of amlodipine, and then there was a long pause and a cough, followed by more coughing.
He found co-codamol and “levothyroxide” [sic].
“I’ve just put it [the sandwich-box] away.”
There was much rustling as he searched for the Normulen / gliclazide, but he did not find it.
At 19:00+, the Old Man was sleepy. I told him there was football on ITV — he seemed impressed when he learnt it was Brazil.
At 20:26 he wasn’t quite as sleepy, but he hadn’t been watching the football. He was mumbling in response to questions.
He swallowed a cod-liver-oil capsule and a multivitamin tablet.
He went to switch the light on, and it was 20:40 by the time he returned.
I told him to get the oblong box with the blue dots. He was still mumbling, almost incomprehensibly.
He located the simvastatin. I asked him whether what he had got was an oval brown tablet.
“I can’t tell that until I open it.” He swallowed a simvastatin, and we moved on to searching for ferrous sulphate.
“Come on!” he said, half-way through the search, as though I was preventing him from locating the ferrous sulphate, or delaying him.
He swallowed the ferrous sulphate.
“Co-codamil.” He swallowed a co-codamol.
Our session ended at 20:57.
There was no response when I phoned at 21:21.
[Original posting 15 June 2011]