Monday 28-6-10: “The bed’s gone off me.”

The Old Man couldn’t find the dispersible aspirin, so we moved on to the gliclazide which he did find. I asked him whether he had swallowed it.
“No, I’ve thrown it through the window,” he said dryly.

We moved back to the dispersible aspirin.
“Distur…”
“I can’t find anything like that.”
He said he had found the dispersible aspirin, but it was lansoprazole that he put into the cup — presumably the lansoprazole left over from yesterday evening. I told him to swallow the lansoprazole.
“There’s somebody knocking at the door,” said the Old Man. I advised him to ignore it.
He found the dispersible aspirin, dissolved one in water, and drank it. (I think.)
“What’s the disturbance?” he asked. He thought something unusual was going on. I didn’t know what to say to him about this.
While looking for amlodipine, he offered first dispersible aspirin and then simvastatin — but paradoxically, he sounded more lucid than he had earlier that morning.
I didn’t bother with a search for bendroflumethiazide, reckoning that it would probably be futile.
“Ámlodine.” He found the amlodipine and swallowed a tablet of it. (I think.)
While he was searching for levothyroxine, there was a longish pause.
“I’ve got it.”
I felt sceptical about this, but:
“A little white tablet.” Then he asked:
“What was that little episode?” He was referring to the knock on the front door, and clearly he thought that I must be implicated in some way.
He swallowed the levothyroxine.
“Co-godamol.” He found the co-codamol, and I told him to swallow two tablets. He responded:
“Ooh, aren’t we living!”
He swallowed 2x co-codamol. Our phone-call ended at 08:22.

Our first contact that evening was at 19:23. The Old Man had been getting ready for bed. I told him to refill his water-bottle, and that I would call back.
When I called back at 19:40, he had left the water-bottle in the kitchen, and had to go and fetch it.
“The bed’s gone off me,” he said. By this he meant that he no longer wanted to go to bed.
He took a cod-liver-oil capsule and a multivitamin — which were in the cup of water, I presume, as I heard the tinkling of the spoon. We moved on to simvastatin.
“I can’t have any of them,” he said — meaning that the box of simvastatin was empty. I told him to throw the empty box away, and get the new one.
“Some…” Then: “Oh…” — in a falling tone.
He found the new box of simvastatin, and swallowed a tablet. We moved on to ferrous sulphate.
“Serrous.”
“I can’t see anything like that.”
He couldn’t find the ferrous sulphate.
“Co-codadol.”
He found an empty box of co-codamol.
“Co-codinol.”
“Co-codinols.”
He found the co-codamol, and swallowed two tablets.
He undertook a final search for the ferrous sulphate, but didn’t find it.
The Old Man said he was feeling tired again, and was going to bed.
I rang off at 20:13.

[Original posting 28 June 2011]

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