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.