At 07:26 I phoned the Old Man and told him to get the deep box.
He offered simvastatin before I’d named any tablets.
The Old Man said there was nothing in the deep box, so I told him to look in the sandwich-box for the dispersible aspirin.
He found the lansoprazole, and swallowed a capsule. Then he volunteered that he needed to get the box [which box?!] sorted out.
Searching for dispersible aspirin, he offered ferrous sulphate, then simvastatin.
“It’s about time you came up here.”
He offered amlodipine, and then said he had found two boxes of dispersible aspirin. But moments later he denied that he had found them.
Finally he found the dispersible aspirin (I hope). I told him to put a tablet of it into the cup, and I heard him stirring the contents. He drank the dissolved dispersible aspirin.
Our first phone-call of the day ended at 07:47.
At 08:04 I phoned the Old Man, to supervise his second medication session.
I told him to look for the Normulen package. After a long pause, he found it.
He could not find the bendroflumethiazide, but found the amlodipine. I got him to swallow an amlodipine tablet and a half-tablet of gliclazide.
He found the co-codamol. I had told him to get out two tablets, but he got out only one. He took out another tablet, and swallowed both the co-codamol tablets, plus a levothyroxine.
This medication session went very smoothly.
Our phone-call ended at 08:24.
At 18:49 I phoned the Old Man and asked how he was.
“Terrible.” — He often makes this reply, so I don’t take it too seriously.
I told him to have a drink of water.
At 20:18 I phoned again. It was clear that I had woken him.
“It’s Friday night, isn’t it?” he volunteered. He went to switch the light on.
The Old Man found the cod-liver-oil and multivitamins, and swallowed one of each.
After a false start when he wanted to take medication first from the box with no dots (sandwich-box) and then from the box with red dots (deep box), he found the simvastatin and swallowed a tablet of it.
While he was searching for ferrous sulphate, I overheard him say:
“There’s nothing in that box.” — i.e. the deep box?
After offering co-codamol, he found the ferrous sulphate and swallowed a tablet.
“You know, we could do all this in the morning.”
I explained that we could not. We moved on to searching for the co-codamol.
“There’s nothing in it.” — i.e. the package of co-codamol was empty.
I decided against letting him loose on the sandwich-box and trying to find co-codamol in there.
Our phone-call ended at 20:49.
At 21:23 I phoned the Old Man and told him: “I’m signing off for tonight.”
“So am I,” he replied, as though we had both phoned each other!
[Original posting 25 June 2011]