9th January 2008 - What me, with my reputation?

I don't often go in to visit in the evening but I did today. I knew I had a busy weekend coming up - there was a family do in Sean's lot that we'd have to go to, ballet for Ellie, shopping for a variety of birthday gifts, and all the usual preschool, prework preparations - washing, ironing, housework crap. So, anyway, I thought it was unlikely that I'd make it in both Saturday and Sunday so I thought I'd better see him when I could.

It was odd seeing some of the residents in their bed things. It can't have been Dad's bath day because he was still fully clad and wearing, not only his clothes but clues to the day's menu on his shirt and trousers. He's taken to wiping his nose on his hand and then his clothes, so his shirt was encrusted with all manner of stains.
Lily was bathed and glisteningly clean. All wrapped up in a pink fluffy spotty housecoat. Amy too, in equally fluffy lilac. All new, christmas pressie pyjamas and dressing gowns.

Dad was surprised to see me. I thought his surprise was down to the lateness of my visit but no - "What are you doing here in this house of ill repute? There are half dressed women here - have you turned to that now?"

We sat down, and I tried to ask him about his day, his dinner, his feelings, tried to tell him of my day - but the noise was defeating us. The sundowners had arrived - and that's not a tray of cocktails but a term to describe the behavioural pattern that the demented show of becoming increasingly vocal as the sun goes down. The new lady was shouting "Wee Colin, away oot to play. Yer mammy's no weel. Git tae Mrs Munro's, she'll gie ye yer tea. Wee Colin. Wee Colin. Wee Colin. Mrs Munro, Mrs Munro, Mrs Munro. She's a guid wummin. Clean house. Mrs Munro. Mrs Munro. She's got the sausages".

Dad piped up at this point "Sausages. Yes, they were nice".

"Wee Colin. Yer mammy's no weel".

Bertha joined in "Mammy's deid. She deid. Da! Mammy's deid" over and over.

Lily screeches "Aaggghhh. You shut the fuck up you - she's naw deid. You wait 'til I git there, I'll show you whos deid" and sets off to thump Bertha. She's using her zimmer and it'll take her ages to get that far - she'll probably forget why she's going before she gets there, so the staff just let her.

All round the day room, people are shouting, dressed in their new nightwear, showered, bathed, powdered and soaped or in their dayclothes, crispy with the fallout of the day.

Karen is sitting, trying to finish her paperwork, completing all the handover documentation for the incoming shift. She's totally focussed. Doesn't flinch no matter how loud they get, doesn't register even the loudest shreik or yelp. Doesn't even look up. Occasionally she'll warn "Out of the kitchen Mabel!" or "Not on the floor Tam!" or "Keep the curtains shut Cammy" without even looking up.