Day #71 > SATURDAY 2nd JANUARY
Quiet start to the day. Walk ok but Mum a bit sad still. I mention seeing Brenda – her eyes light up & we agree to walk Abel, then have a cuppa & call Brenda afterwards then to see if she’s receiving visitors today.
We return, have our cuppa & chit chat until Lia calls; we catch up & Mum pops her head around the corner at around 11.30am to tell me that Bob wants to go shopping. Hey, it’s your call Mum, but I let her know that I’m aware that once again Mum’s made arrangements to see a friend – well, tentative arrangements to see a friend today – & Bob is overriding that with what he wants to do. I’m certainly not going to tell Mum what to do, I say, but it’s noted. Additionally I volunteer that usually she suffers hugely if she doesn’t eat lunch &, of course, it’s coming up to lunchtime now. In fact you’d often have a nap soon, so is it wise to go shopping right now?
She tells me she wants to please Bob, so I reiterate that I’m not ‘telling’ her what to do at all, but I am pointing out the facts. And my concerns.
I try to smooth it over a bit by saying, ‘Mum, if you tell me you’d like me to come, I’ll happily come with you,’ but I’ve been trying to stay out of Bob’s presence recently because of all the references to him wanting me to leave for good.
Mum simply replies with: ‘I’d like you to come shopping.’
I smile, ‘I’d love to!’ I say; you see, that was easy – just ask or say what you feel Mum & it makes everything go so much more smoothly.
We go downstairs & tell Bob the joyful news. I take the opportunity to ask Bob if it’s wise to go now, given no lunch & usual time for a nap? No real answer, so I repeat the question, which he then says is her choice. I say no, it’s up to you to take care of Mum’s welfare Bob, so howsabout we’re sensible & say that if you’d like to go shopping now let’s ensure we eat out, so Mum doesn’t go hungry & potentially get muddled later on this evening. Bob says he doesn’t want to eat. I say ‘It’s not about you Bob, it’s about Mum’s welfare!’, as he can take care of himself.
It’s agreed we’ll eat out – so out we go, but Mum gives Bob an ear-bashing in the car as he is a bear with a sore head & she wants him to be polite. I almost feel sorry for him at times. I try to instigate some chat & eventually we arrive at Lidl. I get Bob a trolley, wheel it to him & then reel off the immortal ‘you’re welcome!’ quip when he just takes it & wibbles off. ‘Thank you.’ He mumbles. See, we can be polite eh . . .
We shop. We then eat at a deli – Mum has a big ole garden salad, I have chipotle chicken & Bob, despite apparently not being hungry, has a bowl of chilli when he discovers I’m paying . . .
Once we leave there he decides not to go to the DIY shops as he’d planned, as what apparently is so important today is to research a waste disposal unit. Mmmm. Is it because I’m here & maybe he wanted a drink? Who knows, he says he’ll look online later.
Back at home we have a a cuppa & I go to chat with Lia, but then play on the laptop & have a siesta. Come down at 7.00pm – no food. They both say they’re not hungry. I make a sandwich for myself & eat in the den. Mum’s a little disorientated & says she’s had a beer, although there’s no sign of one – so I suspect she’s had a sip on Bob’s one. I talk her through her issues – ‘losing’ Abel’s collar & feeling stupid because of it, although it turns out Abel has his collar on & there’s nothing to worry about. I show Mum this, & we touch on making problems out of nothing, but I reassure her there is nothing actually wrong, as she has not lost the collar at all, although I do wonder why she believes she has? She’s making problems out of nothing. Sigh.
Bob leaves the room at around 8.30pm with his bottle of Pepsi, & within five minutes he’s vomiting loudly in the kitchen sink.
He says it’s the chilli he ate for lunch. I say it would’ve come out much earlier if that was the cause of the problem. He says it’s in the sink! I say ‘Of course it is Bob, that’s what was in your stomach! Perhaps it’s the amount of fizzy pop you drink?!’ I ask I can help & suggest he drinks some water, but leave him to it.
Bob rejoins us & composes himself to say he’s had some Tums today & is heading to bed to recover. Nite nite Bob, shout if there’s anything I can do. Mum & I tidy up, including taking Bob’s beer-smelling pint glass from beside his throne back into the kitchen . . .
I console Mum – letting her know I’m only upstairs if she needs me, & that if Bob’s having tummy problems then he needs to look at what he actually puts in it. Starting with drinking water if he absolutely needs to hold a glass in his hand from morning to night . . .
I go to bed.