August 12th, 2015


Where My Mother's Up To

There was talk four months ago of discharging her from the regular appointments at Maidstone Hospital but it hasn't happened yet. For the time being the Anti-veg people want to see her every two months. They test her eyesight using one of those old-fashioned letter boards, then they take a picture of the back of her eye, then a doctor sees us and gives us the goodish news that things haven't got any worse.

Her sight is dim, but the real problem is in the brain. She can see a thing but she can't remember the thing she saw a moment ago- so everything she sees is without context. She can't read a newspaper, let alone a book, because the phrases stand in isolation and TV- which she watches much of the day- is just an incoherent stream of speech and images. 

Bloody Cat

I love him dearly but he's got this habit of walking right in front of you and even sitting or lying down in your path. He does it with my mother, who- not being used to cats- is reluctant to poke him with the legs of her walker and instead just stands there going, "Oh cat" in a sorrowful voice. I was heading into the kitchen just now- carrying a tray- and so not able to see my feet- and found myself booting him roundly in the ribs. He doesn't seem to mind- or at least if he does it doesn't cause him to modify his behaviour.