I phoned the Old Man at 07:22 and told him to get out the deep box. He found the lansoprazole, and I heard him shake the package.
“There doesn’t seem to be many in here.” [There should have been plenty.]
He swallowed a lansoprazole capsule. We moved on to the dispersible aspirin.
“Dísperal aspirin?” He remarked, as per lansoprazole, that there weren’t many of them. (He should have two packages of dispersible aspirin, one of which was full on 5 July.)
He found the dispersible aspirin, dissolved it, stirred and drank. All was going well so far.
I told the Old Man to repack the deep box, put the lid on, and put the box away.
“I don’t have anything to put back.” — i.e. to repack.
When I told him to find the sandwich-box, the Old Man offered the blue-top bottle of cod-liver-oil capsules:
“Ah”…” — he had found the sandwich-box.
He found the Normulen package.
“Half a tab,” he volunteered. He swallowed the half tablet of gliclazide, then said he didn’t have a lot of water. I decided that he’d better take the remaining tablets in one go. We moved on to the bendroflumethiazide.
“What do you want?” — i.e. how many. He found the bendroflumethiazide. For amlodipine he offered co-codamol, then he found the amlodipine. He asked whether he should swallow the two tablets he’d just got out. I said yes.
He was now searching for levothyroxine. There was a long pause, after which he told me he’d found the levothyroxine and had swallowed a tablet. He may well have.
We moved on to co-codamol. There was a longish pause. I heard the noise of the bubble-pack being handled and opened.
“Two empty doo-dahs.” — he meant bubble-packs. He swallowed 2x co-codamol.
I told him to repack the sandwich-box, refill the water-bottle, and — during the day — eat a banana and some grapes.
Our phone-call ended at 07:57. This was the easiest medication session for quite some time.
When I phoned the Old Man at 19:52, this was our second contact of the evening. The Old Man sounded rather confused.
He needed to refill his water-bottle.
At 20:01 I rang back; the Old Man’s number was engaged.
At 20:13 I told the Old Man to find the blue-top and red-top bottles. He seemed obsessed with “plenty of water” — he may have been referring to water in his cup. I told him to concentrate on the tablets. At least twice, I heard the cod-liver-oil capsules and the multivitamin tablets rattling in their bottles. He got out one of each, and swallowed them. We moved on to the evening box:
The Old Man searched for the simvastatin. There was a lot of mumbling from him. First he said that the tablet he had found was white, then that it was pink. I heard the tinkling of the spoon, and told the Old Man not to use the cup. He swallowed the simvastatin tablet.
He searched for ferrous sulphate, and kept offering co-codamol; then he offered Normulen. He didn’t find the ferrous sulphate.
Finding the co-codamol took a long time. When he seemed to have found it, I couldn’t restore contact with him. Then:
“I’ve been shouting hello for ten minutes,” he said. [Just his imagination.]
He swallowed the co-codamol.
I phoned again at 21:16, to sign off for the night. I think I woke him.
[Original posting 9 July 2011]