29th April 2007 - Are your shoes working hen?

"Are your shoes working hen?" Lily asked me as I came in. I replied that they were and she looked with bemusement at her slippers. The tongue was flapping out of the left one but she'd zimmered away before I had a chance to tell her.

Dad and I sat at a table and Margot brought us tea and coffee. Which was very kind as the trolley had been round already. Dad didn't acknowledge her bringing them over but I thanked her and she knew I appreciated her kindness. Her face is very easy to read, she is a person that can not hide how she is feeling. If she is in a thunderous mood, her brows collect above her eyes and you can almost see her own personal 'little black rain cloud' just hovering above her head. When she's in a bad mood, you know. And it's always the same cause. The management of the home. Not the residents, not even the equally demanding relatives, but the management. She can handle batting away "The dodds of shite that they fling at me, it's the keich fae above that gets ma goat". Sod cloning sheep, they should clone her. Clone her over and over again and sack the Tweedles.

Anyway, Dad was a million miles from planet earth. "Away ta-ta" as my mother would have said. Every foray into conversation I tried went nowhere and was confusing him and - latterly - just irritating him. So I stopped talking, read him a few bits from the paper and sat back for a while. I sat without much interaction for 5 minutes - I could see the huge wall clock from my post - and in that time the wanderers circuited the place. The residents that walk round and round and round. At differing paces , some with zimmers or sticks, some unaided, but all to no place, to no end, to no purpose persevable to the undemented eye. Amy went round most. In five minutes she came and went 14 times. Came in, sat, got restless, rose and walked off with a "I've lost me handbag" or a "Jist wait 'til my husband comes in" or a warning "Look out fur that yin love, she'll have yer purse quick as look at you".
Only to come back seconds later, apparently oblivious to the previous encounter.

Lily had sat at the table next to us. She was staring at her slippers, the tongue of which was still flapping around. She was bent over trying to fix it, then took it off, turning it over and over trying to make sense of it. One of the staff was watching her do it, and watching me watch too, he was smiling at me in a "Aren't they funny sometimes" kind of way as she'd swear at her "Fucking bastard shoe, will ye no go oan and stay on!". After a bit I kneel down in front of her and fix her slipper for her. "That's awfy kind of ye hen! Are you a doctor or tha? Ye must be awfy clever to fix tha jist like tha!"

When I had got back up to our table Dad asked "Is it usual for a woman to propose these days then?" and I realised he mistook my dropping to my knees infront of Lily the wrong way. "I was fixing her slipper Dad, not asking to marry her". "Ah, that makes it better then, I would think you'd be better to marry a man". Lily screams from the other table "It's no a man I'm looking fur it's the buckin' lavvy. Aw, hen, Doctor, will you no tell me where the lavvy is?". On my way out I showed her where the lavvy was, while the staff member read the Daily Record and waved me a cheery goodbye.

28th April 2007 - They've got me playing a Rock Star

I visited on my own today. When I found Dad - he'd been wandering after his afternoon tea. He always "gets up and goes" after a meal or a cup of tea - which I suppose is natural - after you've stopped what you were doing in your day to have a meal or a break you would get up again to start back doing whatever it is you do. Dad still gets up to start back with his day, but there's nothing to do, he wanders off until he forgets where he is or where he's going.

Anyway I found him and brought him back to the day room to sit down. I ask him if he's had his afternoon tea and although he says no I see Karen assuring me with a head movement that he has. There's a few other visitors in - it's a Saturday - so we all nod to each other and smile. It's very noisy in the day room - Bertha mainly, shouting over and over at everyone that passes her. I asked Dad how he was and he launches into a story "Not too good. They've got me playing a rock star in this film." "You're playing a rock star?" I echo as it seems pretty unlikely casting "No don't be daft, I'm the man organising the prison break, why would I be a rock star? Anyway there's this underground driver and his father of the bride - no hang on what do you call the father of the bride?" He was looking at me wanting an answer, I was wondering if I'd drifted off and missed a bit of the question because I've no idea what I'm being asked but reply "The father of the bride" and he nods gratefully that I've cleared up that little grey area of confusion "Yes, that's it the father of the bride, all very smart must have been quite a do, very hoity toity". At that point one of the housekeeping staff passed and my Dad watches him pass "See that what I mean. That big negro could have brought me a tea, we're sat at a chairable, it's obvious what we want. He never brings the tea, must think it's beneath him." "It's not his job Dad, he's a housekeeper not a carer" I tried to tell him. "Shush, he'll hear you, you can't call him a housekeeper anymore, they don't like it". I made him a mug of tea as I fight off the mage of Jonesy in Dad's Army "They don't like it up 'em those Fuzzy Wuzzy's".

The creation of the 'chairable' word is something I've noticed creeping in lately. His words are sometimes coming out chopped up, joined together or with sound or even spell alike substitions. A chairable is chair and table run together. It's almost as if he's reading what he's about to say - maybe he is in a scripted film, although obviously not cast as a rock star that would be daft.

25th April 2007 - Yer shite still reeks love

Amy was in a bad mood today. Normally she's in a reasonable frame of mind - or rather temper - she's obviously in no frame of mind or she wouldn't be in there. Ellie and I were playing snap, sitting at a table, with Dad watching. Amy joined us at the vacant chair at the table and asked to join in. Ellie was pleased and handed her a pile of cards to play with. The game started with Ellie, moved to me, then to Amy. Amy didn't play a card so Ellie said "It's your turn, you need to play a card". "I know I need to play a card, I'm no that far gone that I need a bairn to tell me how to play cerds!" but still no card. We waited a bit longer. No card. I played my card and she rounded on me "You're jist taking the piss now. Away and fuck off, snap my arse! And you mind your language in front of the bairn!" and she wander off cursing me and my card sharp cheating ways. I was bemused. She looked back and turned to spit at me "You think you're better than us don't you? Yer shite still reeks love, same as mine" and off she went again. In the corner of my eye I see Tweedledum smirking. She's of the opinion that I think I'm better than her too. Couldn't be further from the truth really, I don't think I'm better than anyone, far from it. If I were to measure myself against anyone else I'd come up woefully inadequate. For all I inwardly mock the Tweedles, I know I couldn't do what they do, I'm not enough of a person and they are. No, I don't think I better than you Amy. Saner yes, better no. And the saner bit isn't a definite, not necessarily a permanent fixture.

22nd April 2007 - Friday 13th April Have a nice day!

There's a new man. He looks lovely, he's so smiley. He's very smart, very dapper. His hair looks like a wig, even though it's not, but it looks like the wig Stepoe's Dad used to wear when he was trying to be posh. I saw his family bring him in, he was smiling, fixed smile, being told all the same things. "It's just until you are feeling stronger, and if you don't like it we can see about something else. The food is great - you have to watch you don't start getting fat! And there's lots of outings and trips. They even have entertainment brought in special - I wouldn't mind a few weeks convalescing here myself". Talk talk talk - I did it when I was bringing my Dad in all those months ago. Anything to avoid him being able to ask, to question, to make me have to tell the truth. I smiled feebly at the relatives, they smiled back at me, but our eyes meet and I know they are hating this, and they know I've hated it too. And he smiles.

But if there's a new resident, there must be one gone, so I looked around the day room doing a mental tick list. There's no Jinny. And I listened and I couldn't hear "ohohohohoh". And I thought back and realised that over the last couple of weeks I hadn't had to rescue Ellie from Jinny, only from Margaret and Cecily.

I saw Tweedle on the way out and I asked about Jinny. "Deid. She woke up the next agin morn to a heart attack. Aye, woke up to heart failure, took a heart attack. But as I ayeways say "Thats' the way to go" - it is though eh but ? Ok one minute then wake up deid the next through the night". I agree with her but I'm thinking "But she wasn't ok was she, she'd been off her trolley for years you daft tart" and I feel guilty for being so uncharitable until Tweedle tells me "I didnae mind Jinny, she wiz annoying but harmless - apart fur the smell of shite - but the one I'm waiting fur is Dolly. I canny wait for Dolly to pop her clogs - no fur her sake, she's no so bad - it's her buckin' husband. Yisterday I wis gieing Moll her yoghurt and he comes up tae me - all nicey nicey, nice as ninepence - and asks if I'd make them a cup of tea when I wiz finished with Moll. Like I've got nothing better tae dae? I let them wait I can assure you of that. He's a pain in the erse that yin, I'll no be sad tae see the back of Dolly. That's one funeral I'll no be going tae." I wonder if she'll come to Dad's. I wonder if you can stop them coming. I wonder if she talks like that about me and Dad to other people. I suppose she must. No reason to suspect she's any nicer about us to other people. Just when I'd started to like her, or at least to get used to her ways and manage to convince myself they were ok.

16th April 2007 - Don't-give-a-fucker

It was a sunny day - much sunnier and warmer than you'd expect for the time of year. British obsession with weather. Anyway, as we left - Dad was too hot so dehydrated and completely sensless - I saw Tweedledee who asked if we ( me and Ellie ) were away to enjoy the sunshine. When I said we were she rounded with a vicious but vaguely joking "It's alright for some eh? I say it's alright for some! I'm stuck in here they lot, wiping the shite aff the bloody wall's, but that fine, you away and hive an ice cream an a walk on the beach". If you asked her what her job was she'd say "Carer".

What does that make the rest of us then - don't-give-a-fuckers? Carer, my arse as Jim Royle would say. Carer!

13th April 2007 - Friday 13th indeed

There's a new lady. She's finding it hard to settle in. She's pretty together and some of the staff are treating her as if her dementia were further progressed than it is. And probably soon will be, especially if she stays in there for long. She's not being asked meal choices, being fobbed off when she asks to go out or when she wants to go to her room. So she barricades herself in, stacks chairs behind the door. She's on her way to being labelled as difficult and shipping off to a hospital. Surely each of the homes should have someone experienced or qualified above a checklist level to assess someone's level of care need? The needs of the residents change on a day to day basis - usually they worsen but not always. Sometimes dementia looks worse than it is due to dehydration, drug regime change, other illness, depression, all sorts of things. And sometimes, just sometimes, people play up. I would. If I knew everyone around me thought I was off my trolley, that I was locked up and was going nowhere, if I knew I was dying, I reckon I might play up just a tad too. I'd barricade myself in, I'd swear and shout, not waving but drowning. Go on yersel, new wummin. Barricade yersel in, cuss and swear, gie it laldy.

Friday the 13th and the new wummin will be hauled out once the handyman and the male orderlies move the obstacles. "I cannae dae it, I've got ma monthlies and I walked unner a ladder this morning - this morn of aw morn's I ask ye. It's no that I believe aw that, but there's got tae be sumhink in it. You every watch that Derek Acorah? Now you tell me there's no sumhink in it. He's amazin' him is he naw?" Tweedle tells me. "An Annie cannae dae it n'aw. She's on light duties efter that wummin in the other unit wi the one eye bit her on the nose".

6th April 2007 - Good Friday

"It's Good Friday today Dad" I ventured at one point. "What's so good about it?" he met me with but Ellie explained it pretty well I thought "Well, Papa, it's like this if you are good all day this friday the Easter Bunny brings you chocolate on Sunday".

1st April 2007 - April Fools Day

It was April Fools Day. Having always been considered - or maybe that should just be having always been - a miserable cow, I've never really seen the mirth in April Fool's Day. The problem has always been for me that a 'joke' is something that should be funny. Most April fool's jokes are just lies, not funny lies, just lies. So anyway, April Fools Day usually passed me by. I am probably often duped by the jokes but just don't care. But this April Fools Day it didn't pass me by.

In the home there's a chalk board on the wall where some staff member or other is tasked with writing the day and date - sometimes with a wee smiley which makes all the difference. Often it's misspelled. I used to think this was due to the number of Eastern European staff until I saw Susie - Embra born and bred and proud of it - write up Satarday 13nth Febry. Frequently it's forgotten about for a couple of days, which must defeat the purpose surely - keeping the residents aware of the day and month is a good idea but the Groundhog Day effect must be a problem. Even worse sometimes it just wiped clean. Lily once cornered me in front of it "Is it no a day the day then hen?" I looked at the board "It's just not been written up today Lily. It's Saturday today". "But that's no wit it sez up there. Maybe I've no woken up yet, is it still yesterday? Naw that canny be right. I'm no in ma goonie, I'd be in ma goonie if it wiz yesterday. I'm jist gaunae wait here until it's a day. I might be daft but I'm no risking walking about in between days". A reasonable enough precaution in the circumstances I supposed.

But, this day, the board was emblazoned with 1st April - APRIL FOOLS DAY. But someone had hung the board upside down in a 'comical' way. Anyway, a couple of the residents passed the chalkboard, tilted their heads in a budgie-like, birdy fashion, then stopped and stood, staring at the upturned notification of the year's most jocular day.

My Dad, as we passed the board, looked at it, snorted himself into an asthmatic coughing fit and then looked me in the eye and asked "So it's all a joke then? I'm not going mad, not going down the pan and I can go home with you now? It's all a joke. I knew you wouldn't leave me here! To Moira's, or Colin's, my house or even your house, but we can leave now - yes?" "No Dad, we can't. You are still not well enough. You still have your bad turns" I try to fob him off. I might have imagined it but I think I see his spark return to his eye, the one that would flicker in there before he would send out a barb, a veiled barb, a "you took me the wrong way" barb, but a heat seeking, heart seeking, target guided, sidewinder barb all the same. "Bad turns? Is that what you call dying? Dementia's a bad turn is it? It's April Fools Day but I'm not buying it". I tried to think of something to say but couldn't find anything but Tweedledum came thumping through with a red nose on and a cowgirl hat with attached blonde pigtails "Aprils Fool - got ya" and tickled him with a feather duster. Thanks Tweedle, you saved my ass. It annoyed him so much he forgot his irritation with me, forgot his realisation and lost hold of that spasm of loquaciousness and clarity. "I lost my glasses over the side of the Queen Mary you know" he tells me again. Poor Dad. I hope he doesn't remember how I let him down.

30th March 2007 - Put them away then!

I've always been irritated by women with big breasts. It's not the breasts themselves that annoy me but the women behind them. Generally - and I do mean generally as I also know a few mammary heavy women that are very nice people - they really get on my tits. My ordinary sized tits. This may be sour grapes. I am probably jealous of my melony friends but my bug bear has always been this. If you have big boobs and claim to hate them, claim to hate the way clothes hang because of them, claim to suffer all manner of indignities as men ogle them and talk to them rather than you, and claim not to be able to sleep on your front and have terrible backache because of their pendulous weight, can I send you these pieces of advice. Firstly, buy a decent bra, one that supports the weight, therefore stopping the backache. Secondly, put them away then! Thirdly, stop talking about them all the time. And lastly, if you have big boobs but are also overweight, then the boobs are just fat, that's all, lose some weight and hey presto! your problems will be solved.

This rant was brought to you via Tweedledum who decided to confide in me today the perils of being a bigbreasted woman. She's not, she's fat. And she has them out on show whenever she can. And she talks about them all the time, drawing attention to them in case her saggy blubbery cleavage hadn't already caught your eye, or the michelin man effect on her back caused by her bra straining to circumnavigate her girth.

"Ma Rickie loves 'em. Can't keep his hands off them. But I've always suffered at the hands of ma boobs". I reckon her Rickie throws himself into the gorge of her cleavage to muffle the sound and keep away from that face.

Put them away. Shut up about them. Buy a bra that fits. Lose some weight. And if all else fails, surgery is always an option.

Rant over. Me and my average sized boobs apologize to all those women with nice large boobs. Look after them, love them, don't flaunt them too much, don't complain about them and I'm sure they will serve you well and give years of pleasure.