In the words of the great Han Solo, I got too cocky. I am back I said. I was not back at all for I had not factored in the revenge of the Aged Parent and the Jack Russell – neither of whom are dealing with life well at the moment.
Aged Parent is telling anyone with a pulse that her only daughter has moved away and left her. Chance would be a fine thing. (This is something that I may be thinking but am hardly ever saying out loud). As I think I mentioned last time, AP seen some deterioration in her mental and physical state. At the moment, the Social Services crisis team are working with her and us to see what is the best way forward. One of the main problems is still that if she feels a little unsure about things, she responds by pulling the emergency cord. This almost automatically calls an ambulance which eventually results in an overstretched ambulance service coming to tell her that there is nothing much wrong with her. We are getting a reputation here and at this rate she will be the subject of a Christopher Eccleston narrated documentary about NHS time-wasters. So far she has seen a Social Worker, an Occupational Health Therapist and a Physiotherapist. She is doing that thing that old people do where they are really charming to people’s face “Yes dear. Of course dear. I completely agree.” Then, as soon as they leave the room – “Well I didn’t like her at all. Who DOES she think she is?”
I also have fallen victim to this. AP and I had a calm and productive conversation around the idea that her current living situation may not be ideal and the time may be coming when we need to think about a different way forward. She listened calmly and asked good questions. I naively thought that we had progress until I heard her telling her friend – “They’re having me put away you know.” Arrrgh.
On top of all this Morecambe (that’s him above – not giving a monkeys) has decided that no-one can leave the house without him. This means that he howls and barks when he is left alone. You wonder how long he can keep it up and the answer seems to be – “Longer then you can possibly imagine Sweetheart.” Obviously, this is a worry living in an apartment where you can hear the people next door put a cup down. (This is an exaggeration. It just feels like it). So we entered into the exciting world of technology and bought one of those cameras that you can switch on in your living room and keep track of what your pet is doing. I am a bit suspicious of this kind of thing. You never know who is watching as far as I am concerned. Why shadowy forces would need to watch me painting my toenails and hoovering up chocolate cookies I don’t know but you can’t be too careful. They’d probably rather come across someone dancing in a bikini in front of members of the Cabinet or something but that’s their problem not mine.
Anyway, this camera took a life-time to set up and it kept talking to me, which I wasn’t keen on. But I sorted it and went to Lidl with my phone in my pocket to keep an eye on how the dog was doing. Unfortunately, almost at the exact moment I was leaving the house, he was trapping himself in the bedroom which meant that he felt that he was completely justified in barking for the twenty minutes that I was out of the house. At this point I realised that I wasn’t sure how to turn the camera connection off on my phone so I raced round Lidl with my pocket barking hysterically. I am too old for all this carry on. We are probably going to try and get some professional help. A behavourist or something. Do they do them for old people?
Have a great week