Saturday lunchtime

After the success of the Matron's visit M. and I did a runner. I rang the agency and insisted that they send two specific carers for Friday night and Saturday morning as I was leaving dad on his own overnight. We went to my sister's house in Brighton (she is in Istanbul) and after a few hours relaxing with a nice ready made dinner, a bottle of wine we three, my daughter included, got changed into some loud clothing and caught a bus (they pick up other people which wasn't quite to our taste) and headed into town for a night out with friends. We had tickets for the back row of the royal circle at the Theatre Royal to see The Rocky Horror Show. Brilliant seats, fantastic atmosphere and riotous show. We had a ball. We had cocktails in a nearby bar before the show and watched the entertainment of Brighton dressed to kill in corsets and suspenders with feather boas everywhere. It was such fun and the second time I had seen it but each reincarnation brings different sets, different, actors and a whole new experience. Afterwards we headed to Brown's Bar to finish off another bottle of wine before heading home in a brand new black BMW convertible with red leather seats. We put the hood down and waved our way through the streets with everyone waving back. Great night.

We returned home Saturday morning to find dad still sitting on the settee where we had left him and he had been there all night. The carer changed his pad but he refused a shower. They can't force him. Otherwise all well.

Friday 30th October 2009

Dad was behaving oddly last night. Normally, he talks to his imaginary friend who sits on his right hand side. Last night he was having a conversation with the stereo speaker on his left side. He was going to bed he said but what about all the others. How many others are there dad I asked. "Oh, five or six" he waves vaguely round the room. "Well they are going to bed too" says M.
Half an hour later dad comes into our room to say goodnight fully dressed in his outdoor clothes.
I ask him why he has got his coat on and he said. "Well, I might need it". He wanted to know which room he was sleeping in. I replied, "the usual one. You have been using it for 50 years."
OK.
The Matron came this morning and we were all ready, an achievement. She talked to dad and asked quite a lot of questions which we answered for him while he slept. She has agreed to take dad and we said we would take him over for a visit, next week.

The Matron from the chosen home rang today and suggested that she visit dad tomorrow morning at 9.30!! I said yes, and will ring Phoenix telling them I will deliver him later.
I feel absurdly nervous. Next week the nurse who keeps an eye on dad is visiting him to ask if he agrees to going into a home. The day after that we have an interview with the financial assessment people which is terrifying. We have to show bank statements, all income, all assests etc. It is alarming for people who have never made use of the benefits society. I will feel violated by offering up all this information especially as we are only requesting a top up of the fees. Dad's income will make up the bulk. It makes me feel sick. If he had been a lazy sod and spent all his money instead of buying his own home and paying into a pension, going without holidays, they would pay everything!

Wednesday

I knew yesterday was too good to be true. Last night I was punished for being cheerful. I won't describe the trauma of dia....... you can imagine it and it wouldn't be enough. Today, Wednesday I am staying in bed to watch waterbabies and recover, slowly. I know when things are bad because M. starts being very nice to me...

Tuesday 27th November 2009

I am in better spirits this morning - the sun is shining and it is warm. I have sprayed all the settees with fabric freshener which seems to work. Dad is still in bed at 11.00 am and I have a busy day planned.

Monday I don't know what day it is.

Once again the carer didn't turn up. I am going out today at 10.30 and I feel a bit pissed off, again. I rang the agency. They said sorry but what good is that. Anyway, he got up and I told him not to lock the bathroom door and use the soap. He was quite happy. I couldn't put a pad on him but we managed to get dressed. It is amazingly difficult to put socks on swollen elderly feet. The teeth are still missing. I have bought a plug in smelly which I hope will improve the atmosphere. I also bought a scented candle but have no matches! I feel like going out in the street and asking a stranger for matches. I still haven't bought the plastic sheet but I don't seem to get round to these things. I met a friend and hoped to go to Wakefield Place to see the autumn colours, they wouldn't let us in because I had the dog with me. The same happened at Sheffield Park but they at least let me walk round the farmland where I fell over, flat on my face. We gave up after that and headed for a pub lunch where they let the dog into the bar.
The weather was nice tho.

Sunday 25th October 2009

We will have to take the lock off the door to the bathroom because dad is not using soap or gel to wash himself. He locks everyone out and then just stands there, if he does get in the water he doesn't clean himself other that standing under it This is not enought to get rid of the soiling or urine. I went into the bathroom this morning and the soap was dry as was the flannel and the shower get had not been opened. I told the carer to make sure he washed but she said he wouldn't let her in. She helped him get dressed knowing that he was still dirty. Her suggestion was to send him down to the Phoenix to have a proper bath with their assistance. I will do this but it would save a lot of time if we enforced a shower at home. I also pulled back the bedding after she had gone and the sheets were soiled. She is a friendly girl and dad likes her cheekiness but how could she have missed that. He sits in the living room and all I can smell is pee.
I am going out this afternoon just to escape the smell.

Saturday 24th October 2009

I arrived home yesterday evening to be greeted by the terrible smell of 'accident'.
I asked dad to go and change his pad. He refuses, there's no problem, he insists.
It is nearly time for the carer to arrive so I disappear upstairs and leave him sitting on the settee in blissful ignorance. He really doesn't know what has happened and won't believe you if you try to tell him in words of blunt description.
Fortunately, the carers have an authority that he obeys, most of the time.
The poor woman, she has never been to us before. She has half an hour to deal with any problems and make a sandwich or something on toast and give him his tablets. This is all dictated by 'The Care Plan'. She encourages dad to go upstairs, still reluctant but he does go.
It takes a good half hour for her to clean him up properly and into fresh clothing. Most of the carers are very diligent in helping people keep their dignity but basically treat them as if they have the skills of two year olds which is all dad has in respect of keeping himself clean.
By the time she comes down with a freshened dad she has run out of time, if I wasn't here she would have carried on no matter how late she was. I offered to make dad's tea and supervise the drugs. It's the least I can do.

Friday 23rd October 2009

Missing teeth still missing and now, glasses too. Dad wandered round yesterday with an old pair on unfortunately only one of the lenses was there. They weren't even his!
Carer not turned up this morning and it is a Phoenix day so I got him up and in the shower, eventually. Usually he is very concerned to keep a towel wrapped round him but today he didn't bother, ugh. I went to bed early last night and came back down at 10.00 pm to try and get him to go up. What about all the others he says, they're already up there I lie. What about this fella here - he taps the seat next to him. He'll go up when you do.......
Phoenix transport rang to say they were on their way. He's not ready. I throw his toast away and cup of tea otherwise he would refuse to go and expect them to wait while he finishes his breakfast! He said, I haven't finished my breakfast. Yes, you have dad, you finished it about five minutes ago. Oh, did I. I found the glasses.

Dad refused to get up, we left him to it and he finally came downstairs, dressed, but not washed at 1.30 and promptly fell fast asleep. He stayed comatose until 5.00 with short intervals for a cup of tea and cake.
We still can't locate the original teeth but the other set are chewing well except the microwave blew up and he hasn't had anything substantial to eat all day. The microwave ready meals that are delivered weekly are quite nice and fortunately you can cook them in the oven so that is the plan for tonight.

Monday PM 19th October 2009

Dad arrives home and askes if I have found his glasses yet. I tell him he is wearing them. No, he says, I am only renting these. I remind him that it is the teeth missing, not his glasses. He tries the replacement pair and they sort of fit but he doesn't speak so well. My sister has asked if we would like to go and stay at her house and look after the cats while she is away. I don't know if I should risk leaving him.

Monday PM 19th October 2009

We found a spare set of teeth and dad promised to try them. M and I went out for the afternoon and when we came home they had gone missing as well! We think he has decided he is still 18 and doesn't need false teeth and has deliberately hidden them. When we got home (Sunday) he asked if I knew where mum was, he had been upstairs to see if she was there.
Monday we are woken abruptly at 7.30 by a new carer. I rush downstairs to iron the tousers that I had washed yesterday. Still no teeth.
It is a Phoenix day today and all goes well except he won't have a shave. He looks very untidy and we have to change into another shirt as jam goes all over the place. However, he is quite chirpy.
I find the spare teeth on top of the wardrobe, wrapped up in a little tissue parcel. No luck with the originals despite dismantling the beds, stripping the sofas of cushions and sifting the rubbish.
Such fun.

Sunday, 18th October 2009

Still no teeth. A soiled nappy has gone missing and the wash loads are up in the 4’s again as well as a trip to the cleaners.
The carer arrives and we do the linen and floors together before she gets dad in the shower; he doesn’t argue this morning because he knows he needs a good wash. It is almost lunchtime so he can have his lunch rather than breakfast.
I have been looking at some paperwork and found several interesting items.
The first, a certificate of purchase of a burial plot. This is made out to dad’s mum and cost her £1. It is quite ornate and signed by the town’s mayor and chief clerk. I wonder how many people a plot can hold? My mum’s ashes are in the Garden of Remembrance next to people she worked with when she was young. My younger sister, who died of pneumonia when she was about four, is also in the same cemetery but in an unmarked grave. Mum and dad couldn’t afford a stone. We did mull over the ideal of putting mum and Veronica together but it all got too complicated. I wonder if we can put dad in with his mum and dad when he goes. I will have to investigate this now at the Town Hall as it all gets too fraught when you are trying to manage a death.
I am not being morbid just practical. The Victorians had a pragmatic approach to death and I don’t see anything wrong with that.
In France, where I have spent some time, the cemeteries are very ornate with little houses and lots of stone and marble. Unfortunately, the French have a love affair with plastic flowers, so there are a lot of them too. The last day of October is the day of the dead and huge pots of chrysanthemums are placed on the graves, with lots of families taking the opportunity to visit and tidy their plot. I think it is a national holiday too (they have so many it is difficult to keep track).
The displays of chrysanthemums can be seen on roundabouts and in the towns; consequently their association with death means they are not used as indoor plants, which is a shame as they are so pretty.
The other documents I have found relate to a book dad bound for the Queen.
More on that later.

Saturday 16th October 2009

Dad has lost his teeth.
I've looked everywhere you'd expect and loads of places you wouldn't.
He has no idea what he does with some things and we find things in the freezer, the bread in the microwave and nappies (dirty) hidden in drawers (on one occasion we found one up the garden, hidden)! God knows what we will do if they don't turn up, he can't eat properly without them and I don't know if a dentist would still have his records as he had all his teeth out over 40 years ago. The only thing he doesn't lose are his sweets! He'll have to suck them. I think we should buy shares in Werthers Originals he eats so many.
We have had only two washloads today and the carers have turned up which is a result for the weekend. One of the carers was new but she managed to get him in the shower which was brilliant because he knows when he can get away with playing up.
I took the dog up on the downs for a while. There is an ancient barrow (bronze age) near the bonfire site and I stood up on the top of it and tried to feel the vibrations of history. No such luck but I made a few wishes anyway.

It is 7.o’clock and dad insists on one of us eating his leftover bit of cornbeef sandwich. He always wants to share his scraps. I could just say Ok and then throw it away but the perverse side of me has to tell him that we don’t want it. I suppose it is the thrift from the war years coming out but he never offered us food over and above what was on our plates when we were young.
I refuse the leftovers and watch as he adjusts the chairs, picks up the sauces and wanders aimlessy around with them until I direct him to a cupboard. Then he goes round locking and testing the doors before standing behind me waiting for me to go into the sitting room to sit down, when I do that he follows. M. disappears upstairs, he can’t bear the group TV watching session. I stay with dad as long as I can bear it.
He sniffs, farts, wipes his nose and is perfectly content. I unlock all the doors so the dog can go out.

Friday 16th October 2009

Back to normal, Dad wouldn’t get up. It’s a Phoenix day so we have to pull out all the tricks. I get the hoover. He hates hovering. He always did a runner when my mum got savage with her brush strokes. I even threatened him with a cold flannel which is what he did to get me or my sister up on occasions. He giggles, he waves at us, he pretends to be asleep but we get there in the end after half an hours concerted effort. He refused to shave so I let him get away with that. A little bit of face-save for him!
The transport pitched up early so he didn’t have a chance to fall asleep. The Dentist called and offered a replacement temporary but not until Monday. My jaw still hurts but fortunately not the tooth. I have no soft cushion between the ball and socket joint, I keep visualising it scraping.
St. Remy de Provence is sunny but cold, E had to buy a jumper! The forecast is a return to warmer temperatures. Lewes is grey.

Dad has been as good as gold today but still I have had a shit day. The sun is shining. M is away for the day. I have a list to tick off. Start with the Dentist. I can only open my mouth for a little while following surgery so visiting the dentist is a worry. When did the cost of fillings go up so much. £300 for one, albeit a large one, seems excessive. He offered a cheaper version but it was gold coloured! The NHS version, much cheaper, but apparently not worth it. I had been home a couple of hours with my jaw throbbing away when the bloody thing fell out. It was only a temporary filling but I will have to go back tomorrow and endure more.

Today I asked dad if he joined in the Lewes bonfire celebrations when he were a lad. I didn't get much of an answer but I will persue this when he feels like talking. Lewes bonfire is a fantastic, celebration of the past, Guy Fawkes, the Martyrs of Lewes, and the ceremonial burning of effigies, including a pope. More on this later
Weather in St. Remy de Provence, lovely but windy.

Wednesday 14th October 2009

The osmosis plan is not working. Dad keeps picking the towels up and hangs them on the radiators. New Plan: Buy a sheet of heavy grade plastic and put under the beds and then staple it up the sides. It will save on the washing (four loads again yesterday) and all the ironing.

Today we are taking sugar in tea. 40 years of no sugar has gone by the board. He insists he has always taken sugar. Last week when one of the carers offered him a cup of tea he said in his quaintly polite voice “Is that with lemon?”. I nearly fell about. My dad grew up a in rough and ready household, he would climb over the walls of the naval prison to run errands for the inmates: post letters, place bets that sort of thing. He even took out washing for his mum to do. Lemon in his tea was never an option. Where did that come from?

Tuesday 13th October

Dad wanted to go to the shop yesterday to buy his birthday present! The shop is about 5 minutes walk and it is the only place he walks to safely. We have an account so he never has to pay and they send him home if he has already been for the bread and milk. They are very kind to him as are most of the neighbours. We have lived at xxxxxx for 50 years and dad is very well known.

This is a godsend when he wanders because people bring him home. On occasions he has gone into one of the nearby houses and sat in their living room thinking it is his own. It must be a shock to find an old man sitting in your house, more often than not fast asleep. Even though he is little unsteady on his feet at times we don't discourage him from going out. However, there have been times when he has fallen over, it is a risk we take.

Last night I went out to a History lecture and when I returned Dad insisted that he had been out too, he hadn't. I suggested he go to bed so he patted one of the cushions and said "well, what about this fella here then." Whoever 'this fella' is he occupies a big part on dad's settee. We will have to give him a name.

We have recently found out that dad's father was probably Canadian, coming over to the UK in the 2nd WW. His grandparents were married in HH and then emigrated to Canada. Their son came back and married dad's mother. He was a hairdresser and had a shop on the high street,

Unfortunately grandfather and father had the same names which makes it a little difficult to identify documents. I have found his parents' grave they died 9 years apart but on the same day.

Monday 12th October 2009

Funny moments

Dad thought my hat, which was on the top of the settee, was a hedgehog.

We have to ask who is the daft one in this house when M makes a cup of tea, at dad's insistance, for the mystery man sitting next to him on the settee.

When trying to get dad to go to bed he says " I'll wait for mummy" I remind him that she's dead,

"Well, I'll wait for all the others then." I tell him there is only me.

"Well, who are all the others sitting here then." I give up.

M is going to ask Dad what this mystery man looks like next time he pops up in conversation.

The sky is always blue in his world.....

Sunday 11th October 2009

Peaceful day as dad didn't get up until mid afternoon by which time I had gone out! The morning carer turned up at about 10.00 stayed for no more than 15 mins (because he wouldn't move) and recorded in her log that she stayed for 1 hour.....
Lunch carer didn't show, again. I shall report them to social services. That is three times this week. The evening carer was great
When I got home Dad was in the kitchen trying to make a sandwich. He had a piece of bread, no butter but a blanket of jam on top. The bread was invisible and the jam was all over the surface. Bless!
I can't understand how someone can sleep so much. He was in bed last night by nine. He got up about 4.30 and went to bed again at 9.00
Dad has decided not to go to bed because I am staying down to watch Emma. He wants to stay with me. He thinks I am mum.

Saturday Continuing.

M went down the town to buy some comfort food. He had an Indian but I wanted a fry-up so I asked him to get me some mushrooms, a very rare occurence. He rang from Waitrose asking if I want button or shit-acre. I, of course, had the shit-acre. Unfortunately I forgot how to cook mushrooms and they ended up a bit soggy and tasteless but the egg and bacon hit the spot.
Dad has slept the day away and I am really certain that we are doing him no favours in keeping him at home. If he were with lots of people he would have to engage more.

Saturday 10th October 2009

The term 'grumpy old man' fits the bill today. Dad finally got up at 11.00 after much cohersion, a battered and messy bed and piddle all over the floor. But, the osmosis protection plan worked!
Result. I have to separate the washing - I can't bring myself to put tea-towels on with wet sheets or our clothes. Four washes later (and drying) we are all done. Last night dad wanted the imaginary man who was sitting next to him on the settee, go up to bed at the same time. I am too tired to think of any more today.

Today began well, dad got up, showered and dressed all by 9.00 am - Bliss.

When he returned at 4.00 he seemed quite bright but there was bit of a pong. I ignored it and hoped the carer would arrive to change his pad, soon...

"When are we going to the cinema" he said.

"I didn't know we were" I replied.

"Well I don't mind if we do or don't"

"OK"

The care office rang, not coming!

I could have said "shit" but it didn't seem appropriate.

Dad got up and wandered towards the downstairs loo. I asked him to take off his pad if it was dirty and leave it in the loo for me to clear away.

OK he said. I was encouraged, we were having a sensible conversation and he was understanding the situation.

OK, I asked when he came out. No, not really he replied.

"Where is your pad?" I asked,

"In there" he waved vaguely towards the loo.

"You haven't put it down the loo, have you?"

He was indignant at this slur on his capabilities

"Are you clean?" I asked innocently.

"Not really".

I asked him to go upstairs and use the moist wipes specifically for this purpose. He came downstairs with a towel round his middle, unclean I sensed.

Half an hour later he is still there and refusing to move. There is an old poem about Sussex people who won't be druv and my dad is a perfect example of that mentality.

The nappy is missing, it could be anywhere. I retired to my bedroom defeated. I'll wait for M to come home and deal with it.

Friday, 9th October 2009

Thursday 8th October 2009

The sun is shining and we are having a good morning. Dad got up on his own without any fuss and had a shower before the toenail lady came at 10.30. There was no pee on the floor or in the bed but he had peed in the clothes basket instead! The carer arrived just in time to put his pad on and she is doing the domestic cleaning today as well.

Still Wednesday.

I spent the day scrubbing carpet, osmosis damaged beds, washing (4 loads) ironing and now feel quite smug and far less anxious. Dad had a good day at the Phoenix and seemed quite happy.

I arranged with the carer that he would wear a full sized pad rather than piddling all over the place.

The carer told me that he had got into the shower with his slippers on. I have solved the problem of osmosis by rolling up towels and placing them along the edges of the beds. It is easy to wash towels every day not quite as easy to clean divan bases. Tomorrow we have nothing planned except the Age Concern lady coming to cut his toe nails. He has his own kit including some very sharp cutters and she is a volunteer recruited by the noble charity. I wouldn't want to do such a job. In actual fact dad's feet are in very good condition compared to some I have seen on much younger people. The cost of this wonderful service is £4.50

I went down the town and cheered myself up by buying the Booker prize book on Cromwell and the Norweigan thriller by Stieg Larsson and some plums.

It is raining in Lewes and I am quite sure it is beautiful in St. Remy de Provence.

Wednesday 7th October 2009

I will cope with this

Tuesday, 6th October 2009

Weather in Lewes: Lousy, raining

Weather in Remy:

Today I am escaping. The carer will get him up and do all the rest, I hope.

Returned at 5.30, still raining but had a good day. The smell of pee hits me as I walk in. Dad not dressed. Wearing a dressing gown and socks. He smells.

The log says he refused to get up until lunchtime.

The carer arrived and made him tea. She changed the rubbish bin and put a new bag in. Dad took his plate and cup into the kitchen and washed up, I will have to re-do it. He keeps wiping his nose on the tea-cloth. I went into the kitchen to make myself a boiled egg and soldiers. Floor awash, its pee. Mopped up and then put some rubbish in the bin, or started to. He’s tried to pee into the rubbish bin. I can’t bear it.

I abandon the boiled egg. I can’t eat.

He sits munching his sweets.

Last night he asked if the man sitting next to him was going to bed too, there was no-one there.

Sunday 4th October

Weather dull

No carers turned up until 5.00!

He slept on the settee all night, fully dressed with his dressing gown on top.

I gave him his lunch before I went out to an Art Exhibition. Left a note for the missing carers.

Evening carer reported to the office.

Bedtime: Dad wanted to know if the bloke who was sitting next to him on the two seater settee was going to bed as well! There was no-one there.

Saturday, 3rd October 2009

Big day today, dad is going out this evening to a reunion of Brighton Museum and Library. High risk but worth doing. Refused wet shave.

Carer didn’t show up for lunch call.

Got dad dressed up but looks a bit woolly with no shave

Lectured him on using toilets properly.

All went well and worth the effort but I was exhausted when we got home.

He wouldn’t go to bed.

Monday 5th October

Wet and horrid in Lewes

23 degrees in St. Remy

Dad pretended to be sleeping and wouldn’t open his eyes when we tried to get him up. The carer and I told him he was going out to the day centre (The Phoenix).

Bugger the Phoenix he said.

Spent half an hour trying to coax him up but he pretended to be asleep. As soon as the carer left he got up and demanded tea and toast.

Fortunately the carer promised to come back a bit later to get him dressed. I cancelled the transport and said I would drive him down later.

We needed to do a new care-plan so spent an hour with the admin person writing out the same plan we had last year. I moaned about the lack of carers over the weekend and the fact that we had no domestic either.

Got the usual mantra that it was all booked……I’ve heard it all before. I dread to think what happens with other patients who haven’t got anyone.

I hear the odd thing from the grapevine and last week a friend’s mother, who is in a similar situation as dad, dislocated her hip whilst in bed. The poor woman was in agony and vomiting. It took the paramedics two hours to get there.

Couldn’t get dad to the Phoenix, he wasn’t keen at all. I wonder if something happened on Friday as I heard him say to the transport lady that he wouldn’t be seeing her again!

I sat up in our room during the afternoon and I heard him come upstairs. He came in and asked me if I had told Martin about “what we had found downstairs”

What did we find downstairs I asked.

“You know, the animals."

What animals, I can’t remember any animals.

"Well - you know, - have you told him."

When was this, I asked,

“last week” he said.

I asked what sort of animals, big or little ones….

He thought they were mouse size, maybe..

I agreed to tell M.

There were no animals big or little but he definitely saw them in his mind. Same as he sees people in the sitting room.

Two lots of trousers today and three washes of pee soaked bedding, clothes etc.

Dad asked where mum was. I reminded him, gently, that she died nearly four years ago.

I am having a day out tomorrow, something to look forward to.

Thursday 1st October

Lewes: Lovely sunny day but autumnal. 17degrees

St. Remy de Provence : 28 degrees

Got up in the night, terrible smell, opened all the windows and doors to let air through. Wet carpet on the landing. Have to replace soon with more vinyl.

Dad came into our room in the night, He had no clothes on so partially hid behind door. He waved to us as we struggled to surface. There was nothing wrong he just wanted to say goodnight, again.

Carer comes late today so I get a bit of a lie in and a peaceful shower. Dad is downstairs in his pyjamas and shirt on top. I go to check his room for washing and find the cause of the night-time smell. Stuck to the floor and dry. Mop the puddles so I can get in and open the windows. We scrape up the mess with a trowel after M suggests a spatula! All clean before carer arrives, lucky her. Change all bedding again and decide to put blocks of wood under bed edges to stop the osmosis action. M says we can’t have castors back on because the beds would move and be dangerous.

Blocks of wood it is then.

Carer arrives and supervises heavy duty shower with her doing proper washing of his bits otherwise he forgets how to wash properly and we end up with dirty towels and a repeat shower with a very disgruntled dad.

Open all windows and doors to get fresh air in. Wipe all surfaces with anti bacterial. Door handles, light switches and wall as well as the obvious places.

Just tea and toast today for dad’s breakfast. Find hidden dirty pants and vest and wet slippers.He obviously tried to clean himself up but then forgot half way through.

Two washloads today including slippers. Went into town to sit in the library.

Wednesday, 30 September 2009

Weather in Lewes, E. Sx. United Kingdom

Cloudy and grey Max temp. 16 degrees

Weather in St. Remy de Provence, France

Fine, sunny and warm. It’s a no brainer as to where I want to be.

The carer is late, I drag myself out of bed and knock on dads door to prepare him for getting up.

Every morning I wonder if he will wake up.

The bedroom floor is awash with pee, a result of changing the carpet to non-slip vinyl. The down side of this is that there is no carpet to absorb the liquid so the pee gets absorbed into the bottom of the divan as well as the mattress. Where did I put the castors? Why did I take them off?

Last month we had to cut bits out of the carpet out. My friends seemed to find this hilarious, a carpet with holes in it.

I make some tea, none for dad otherwise it will delay him getting up. Today is a Phoenix Day Centre day and it is as important for me as him. He goes three days a week

and it is my lifeline.

The carer arrives and charges up the stairs, her cheerful voice heralds flurry and a belligerent attitude from dad. He doesn’t want to get up, he says ‘Ok’ and then carries on comatose. I join the fray and remind him that he has an outing to the Phoenix Day Centre. He waves to me from the depths of his smelly bedding. 15 minutes of cajoling, threatening and general 'small child' tactics gets him to swing his legs round while the carer heaves him up, protecting his modesty with a large towel. The only time he moves fast is when he hops from bed to bathroom. The shower is underway. I return to my tea and a few minutes in bed, relishing the moment of peace.

After the carer has served breakfast of scrambled egg on toast she runs off to her next client and I am left trying to encourage hair brushing and teeth cleaning.

I check the made bed, it is sopping wet, how can she have missed that? I change the bottom sheet, and the mattress protectors. I leave the mattress open to air.

It still smells!

The Phoenix rings in advance of arrival to ensure he has his shoes on. I open the door and say “Come along dad, they’re waiting” I wave to the driver and see a coach load of elderly faces all waiting to see how long it will take to get dad out of the house. He checks his pockets and walks to the door before turning round and heading back to the mirror, patting his pockets for his money. He has no money, ever. ‘Hurry dad, they are waiting’ I say in embarrassment. ‘Well, let them wait’

He’s gone. I collapse on the settee.