The Old Man’s phone rang OK at 07:10+.
I told him to look for dispersible aspirin. He seemed more interested in telling me that he’d got plenty of water.
“How many?” he asked — i.e. how many dispersible aspirin.
I heard him stirring the dispersible aspirin, and told him to drink it.
“The spoon is still in the cup,” he chuckled softly.
At 07:56 I got him to look in the deep box. He said there was nothing in it.
He offered simvastatin, but eventually found “amlogópide”.
“Have you taken the pill out?” I asked a few minutes later.
“No, not yet.” He swallowed an amlodipine tablet.
We moved on to bendroflumethiazide. There was a long silence, then sounds of searching. He didn’t find the bendroflumethiazide.
“Nothing like that,” he said.
He found 2x co-codamol, and swallowed them.
He said that he’d found and swallowed a levothyroxine – but then (when I asked him to look for bendroflumethiazide again) he said he hadn’t. Of bendroflumethiazide, he asked:
“What are they like?”
I began to suspect that he was swallowing random loose tablets, and not searching for the correct ones.
He found the package of bendroflumethiazide, and swallowed a tablet of that (I hope!).
There was a long pause. I heard various noises in the background.
I reminded the Old Man that he was going for his eye-test today.
He went to look for the letter to take with him, and the prescription for his current medication, which I had put into the envelope. First he said:
“I’ve found it.” Then in the next breath he said:
“I’ll look for it.”
“Oh b****y hell,” he said, while (presumably) searching for the envelope.
The phone call ended at 08:36. It still wasn’t clear whether the Old Man had found the envelope.
When I phoned him at 18:15, the Old Man said he was tired. His voice sounded faint. He asked me the time, and when I said it was a quarter past six, he was not sure whether that was in the morning or in the evening. I sent him off to get a banana and some water.
When I phoned at 19:08 and asked whether he had had the banana and the water, he replied:
He sounded more alert and less negative.
At 20:34, I told the Old Man to get the box with the blue dots.
He complained about pain in his knees.
“BLEKE, do I need any light?”
I told him to open the curtains.
Even with the curtains open, he couldn’t see, and had to go and switch the lights on.
We moved on to co-codamol.
“Shall I eat it?” he asked.
He swallowed the co-codamol tablets, and I told him to look for the simvastatin. After a few minutes, he asked:
“What do you want to do now?”
He offered dispersible aspirin, but said he was looking in the box with the blue dots.
I asked him a few minutes later whether he’d got the simvastatin.
“What are you talking about?” he asked in a tone of annoyance.
He found the simvastatin, and swallowed a tablet.
While searching for the ferrous sulphate, the Old Man found the Normulen box! I told him to swallow a half-tablet of gliclazide from the bottle inside.
After the Old Man offered dispersible aspirin again, we abandoned the search for ferrous sulphate.
The phone-call ended at 21:05.
[Original posting 17 June 2011]