My mum’s got full-blown (whatever that means) dementia. To the point now where you just have to say yes to whatever she talks about. On the phone the other day, she was telling me she had exams coming up so she had to study for them. She left school at 14 or something, never took an exam in her life. Sometimes it’s fine and you just chuckle about it, sometimes it’s really fucking hard. My 95-year-old father in law is staying with us at the moment, three carers coming in a day, wanting to know where his nappies are. I put him to bed last night and he asked for his two urine bottles. He held them up, beaming, and told me “these will both be full in the morning!” Good work soldier, I told him.
I’m in the pub by the way! Sneaked down to the flat in Hastings with the wife’s blessings.
