Well, what a stressful day it has been today for reasons that will be explained shortly. I thought that today was going to be a ‘long’ day and how right I was. I had slept reasonably well and popped into Waitrose to treat myself to a coffee and a pastry before I got to the hospital at shortly before the approved opening hours for visitors at 10.00am on the ward. Meg and I had not been long reunited with each so to speak when we were greeted with the excellent news that we were to be discharged today in fact immediately, once the necessary bureaucratic procedures for discharge had been complied with. So I got Meg dressed and then all of her goods packed away and we were trundled off to the discharge lounge where we were treated to a coffee and we knew there would typically a wait whilst medications were prepared and the discharge note signed off by a doctor. Then the bombshell struck. The sister from the ward came along to us to explain that discharge was not possible because Social Services had not agreed the care package necessary so we would have to stay in the hospital until they did. I did not have the number for Social Services on my phone bit so I phoned the manager of the Care agency to ask him to liaise with social services and to work out what was going wrong. I tried to get in touch with the hospital social worker who came along, apologetically, to inform us how things worked. It seems that once we have entered the hospital the existing ‘care’ package becomes voided and a brand new has to be put in place and then agreed before the hospital would be happy to discharge, But then we have a third player which is the hospital ‘Reablement’ team which organises the immediate care needed in the week or so after discharge but they would not act until they had a report from the hospital occupational therapy team. Now it gets even murkier. The sister on the ward explained that was no reason why the occupational therapy assessment could, and indeed should, be carried in one’s own home so that the exact package of kit needed could be assessed. But then the hospital social worker told us that the ward sister and management had been misinformed and the protocols stated quite clearly that the occupational therapy assessment had to be made in hospital and before discharge. She then informed me that she thought that the sister in charge of the ward did not understand the protocols and should not have led me to believe that we could have discharge followed by occupational therapy assessment and not the other way around. I then told the hospital social worker that the previous local authority social worker (who has since passed on our case to someone who I have not met but us just a name) should not have led to to believe that an enhanced care package would be available even though we were making the necessary monthly contributions. I pointed out that we already had a package of care in place for the mornings and ‘all’ that we needed was probably one care worker in the evening to help to get Meg to bed. Then I was told that this social worker should not have led us to believe that we could have more resources within the current financial envelope and that ‘she should not have given you that impression’ So we are left with the situation in which two groups of professionals have said that cognate professionals were not following the correct procedures. So Meg and I trundled back to the ward awaiting an ‘immediate’ call to the occupational therapy team to come and assess us so that we could be be discharged. We were then told that although they visited the ward daily, they had no time to make an assessment of Meg today, When I protested that if the occupational therapy team had visited the ward that day, was it before 10.00am when I arrived and I was told that they might have made an assessment without seeing me by just looking at the paperwork (which sounded fishy to me) Finally, the news cane through from the ward sister that the OT team would not be visiting today so it was at least one more night in hospital and perhaps even more.

So Meg and I had a delicious lunch (or at least Meg did and I stole various bits of it to keep body and soul together) but I have to say that Meg became increasingly agitated and distressed as the (long) afternoon wore on. I tried every strategy I could think of from loo visits (which is quite a procedure with a device called a ‘Sarah Stedy’), to heavy blankets to examining photos on the iPad to reading parts of her books to her to, to listening to some music tracks But none of these worked. Eventually tea at 5.30 came as a blessed relief and after a somewhat quieter spell eventually one of the nurses and I got Meg undressed, washed and ready for bed in a fairly quiescent frame of mind and fairly sleepy before I left at about 8.45. The same nurse told me that after I left at he same time Meg was quite agitated last night and was asking for me for at least half an hour but eventually a degree of exhaustion took over. So I wonder what tomorrow will bring?

Well, you never quite know what a day is going to bring. After a better night’s sleep and suspecting that I was going to be with Meg for most of the day in hospital, I decided to take along with a couple of iPads on which are stored a lot of photos and also an incredibly ancient iPhone in which there re something like 200 classical tracks and which I can therefore use as a type of MP3 player. I knew I had some brand new and high quality Panasonic ear pieces which are skilfully designed so that they do not drop out of the typical ear. Before I started to go to the hospital, I called in at Waitrose and saw two of my regular Tuesday mornings where I could give them a quick update on the vents of the last two days. One of the regular staff was confiding his woes to me as a close family had had an accident and damaged his spine so we were swapping macabre hospital stories with each other. I timed my visit to the hospital to arrive just before relatives are admitted which is 12.00pm. But the 12.00pm opening time related to the initial ward to which Meg was admitted on Sunday evening whereas the ward to which she was relocated has access time starting at 10.00am. So tomorrow, I shall be there at 10.00 and prepared for a long day (until 9.0 in the evening) but meal times punctuate this as well the diversions provided by the iPads. Today, Meg was somewhat calmer than she had been yesterday when she suffered from an acute bout of separation anxiety. As I arrived just before lunch, Meg was served with a delicious pork steak that would not have been out of place in a high quality restaurant. I was going to purloin Meg’s apple crumble but the staff came to my aid. They told me that there was a system of vouchers that could be supplied but you had to go off to a restaurant in a different part of the hospital. I indicated that I would forego lunch as I really did wish to stay with Meg all of the time and did not want to leave her. The staff took pity on me and rustled up a full scale meal for myself as well, which I accepted with alacrity. After lunch and a bit of a rest, we had a visit from a couple of Dementia nurses and they were very jolly and we had a good chat together. To be fair, everything they had to say I already knew but I did point out the advantages of the ‘heavy’ blanket which I went home and fetched yesterday and which has proved useful ever since. I have told several staff about this aid and some staff had never heard of it at all whilst others know of it vaguely – certainly none of the staff in the hospital had actually seen one before. So I have been suggesting the use of this to many of my contacts. For example, my University of Winchester friend might be interested in this for his wife. Juts before I set off on the road this morning, our new Asian neighbours who have just returned from several trips around India had only recently returned home but seen the ambulance on Sunday morning, So the wife of the couple phoned me and I have her a quick update of the events of the last two days but she was very interested n the concept of the heavy blanket might prove of benefit to a nephew living in Canada who is experiencing autism quite badly these days. I posted the web access details through our neighbours front door before I left this morning.

No occupational therapists showed up today so I felt that this day was a bit of a wasted day, today, and therefore somewhat frustrating but I am hopeful they may get their act together so that I can Meg discharged back home as soon as possible. In the late afternoon, Meg had quite a wobbly session so this was a bit tricky but I managed to get through it with a variety of strategies. Of the six bays in this particular ward, I think that dementia patients probably constitute four of the six. Having said that, some of the others receive a visitor for an hour or so but I am the only person who is there the while time to provide support to one’s loved one (and the staff have noticed this and evidently appreciate it) Quite often of it is a case of getting Meg transferred from bed to chair or given a wash at the end of the day, the nursing staff appreciate an extra pair of hands – this may break nursing protocols having relatives assisting them but as I point out to them, and they acknowledge, I am only doing in hospital what I would have done (and have been doing for months) at home if Meg were not in hospital.

During the day when Meg has one or two more restful moments if have cut and pasted updates of what is happening to Meg so that our friends know what is going on. Our two intimate Spanish friends had read my blog and were horrified and email me profound messages of support. I replied that it was best for them to follow the blog every day and we would FaceTime them when I get Meg home. As soon as I returned home, my next door looked out for the car lights and then insisted on coming in and making me a cup of tea whilst I updated her on all the news. People are really rallying around for help and I do appreciate all of this very, very deeply.

And so a new day dawned but I must admit that last night I did not sleep particularly well as so many things were going through my mind for most of the night but I did fall into a deep sleep at 4.45 eventually. This morning, I knew would be quite a busy one as there were a lot of emails to write as well as telephone calls to make. As I suspected would be the case, my blog was no sooner posted last night than my sister, who lives in Yorkshire, phoned me and we spent the best part of three quarters of an hour in mutual support of each other. The text version of the blog held on a different server in the case of disaster striking is useful and to update some of the key professionals looking after Meg i.e. the specialist Admiral Nurse and the excellent occupational therapist, I merely pointed my emails to the text version of the relevant day of blog and this evidently saved a lot of repetition. I have since received very supportive reply emails back from both of them for which I am truly grateful. This morning, I raced around filling bags with a variety of things that might be needed. The first was evidently clothes in case of an imminent discharge, the second was toiletries which I had assembled into a toilet bag not used since our vacationing days and the third was little objects that I thought might be useful such as a little stand alarm clock in case the ward clock was not visible. Before I was due at the hospital at 12.00pm, I popped into our local Waitrose where I bumped into two of our normal ‘Tuesday’ friends so I was able to give them some indications of the events of yesterday before I bought some bottles of cordial to take along (which I remember was an item which was sorely needed after my own hospitalisation some 5-6 years ago) I arrived at lunchtime and Meg had been served with a rather wonderfully tasty meal of what I think was a haddock kedgeree with new potatoes and green beans, followed by rhubarb and custard. I snaffled the sweet for myself as it was the only lunch I was likely to get and then Meg enjoyed her lunch. Shortly afterwards, we ere promoted to a proper medical ward one floor up which was a much larger and more pleasant atmosphere with, I think, six bays in it for the patients. There we whiled away the afternoon until it was time for the physiotherapist to come and assess Meg. When the physio saw that Meg could hardly stand, let along walk she diverted her attention to a wonderful contraption called a SARS machine which transports patients quite easily from bedside to commode to toilet and elsewhere. Meg was showing some signs of truculence at this stage and I wondered what was about to come in the afternoon after. I left.

I left the hospital at about 4.30 and it only takes me about 20 minutes or so (and a car parking fee of over £7) to get home. At about 5.30 I got a telephone call from the hospital because Meg had ‘gone ballistic’ and they had no idea how to cope with her. Eventually, the phone was passed over to me but before it was, I heard Meg’s clarion tones declaiming in a very loud voice and with no incomplete sentences ‘This is an absolute disgrace. You ought to be ashamed of yourselves’ and similar imprecations. I am used to this sort of thing if Meg has a sudden mood swing but the hospital, full of sweet little old ladies slumbering quietly on the beds, were suddenly assailed by Meg in full fighting mode, as it were. I said to the hospital that I would drop everything, which I did and drove along the dual carriage way at 80mph to get there as fast as I could. I managed a quick phone call to my son to appraise him of the situation and he promised to turn up an hour later. By the time I got there, the nursing sister had managed to exert a slight degree of control over Meg but I had taken the precaution of taking along with me Meg’s heavy blanket which can work wonders in situations like this. But the combination of the reduction of the evident separation anxiety, the heavy blanket and a degree of hand holding and stroking her hair gently was enough to get Meg calmed down and almost in a beneficent condition. When my son and daughter-in-law turned up, they had brought along some chocolate which is always helpful in the short term. As it was the end of meal time I wondered if there was any ice cream left over but was informed that Meg had consumed at least two of these already. Nonetheless, the nursing staff managed to rescue another making the third in a row. I made a half-hearted attempt to get Meg discharged on the spot because I told them that I thought I could manage her condition much better at home rather than having the whole life of a hospital ward disrupted. Of course this attempt failed but tomorrow is another day. There should be an Occupational Therapy assessment tomorrow and Meg is, in theory, medically fit and waiting to be discharged but we have to ensure that all of the support packages have got to be in place before the hospital will consent to a discharge which must be ‘in their eyes’ to a safe environment. A nursing assistant and I got Meg washed and ready for bed and when I left at 9.00pm Meg was quite calm and peaceful but I wonder what the night might bring.

Today’s blog is going to seem rather a strange and, shall we say, unidimensional piece but as the events of the day unfolded it ought to be fairly easy to understand why. The carers for Meg were due a few minutes before 8.00am in the morning and we were up in plenty of time and waiting for them. Whilst Meg was seated on a bathroom chair, I took a shower and got dressed at which time the carers were scheduled to arrive. As they started to wash Meg something was very evidently amiss as she was totally unresponsive, was ashen faced in palor and seemed to be showing a slight sweat. After we could not get Meg to respond, the senior care worker phoned base for advice and was told ‘Phone 999’ which I did for the first time in my life. One hears the most terrible stories about ambulance delays but I think I must have struck exceeding lucky because the 999 calls handler at the words ‘unresponsive’ had got the ambulance on their way and even before the ambulance arrived and gave me advice how to keep Meg’s airways clear whilst they kept talking to me until the ambulance arrived. The paramedics were absolutely brilliant and soon got Meg into a recovery position on the floor and started to go through all of their procedures. Bit by bit, Meg’s vital signs started to recover and so we were able to rule out a heart attack and even a stroke started to look less and less likely. Within about half an hour they had got Meg alert and more or less responsive but they were in no doubt that Meg needed to go straight to the local hospital for more extensive tests. But their own hunch was that this was a rapid drop in blood pressure occasioned by what we cannot quite tell but not in the same league s heart attack or stroke. The paramedics were an older experienced male and a much younger female paramedic still in training but they were both brilliant and I was so impressed. I made sure that they gave me a form so that I could instantly rate their excellent performance, not to mention the response time which I could scarcely believe. My son and daughter-in-law were urgently summoned and they came as soon as they could- if the worst had come to the worst it might have been the last time they saw their parent sentient. I then went with the crew to the Princes Alexandra hospital in Redditch (known to all of locals as ‘The Alex’) I was slightly flummoxed to be asked if I had an ‘DNR’ (Do Not Resuscitate) protocol in place but fortunately I had taken the foresight years before to put this in a file at the front of the filing cabinet and I managed to locate it easily within seconds – not that it was needed, of course.

So we then entered the protocols in A&E departments at our major hospitals which involves several lengthy waits punctuated by the occasional medical procedure. We had ECGs performed (twice as the first did not ‘take’), extraction of blood to test for infections and finally a visit to the X-ray department to take X-rays of both thorax and also of the head to check for brain bleeds. As it was now approaching lunchtime, we ere offered a cup of soup and a sandwich which we gratefully accepted. not having had anything all day long. Then we had long, long waits occasionally punctuated by a visit from a couple of doctors. In the late afternoon, Meg started to get quite agitated but we found some medication of the type Meg takes at home which had a calming effect for a time. But then the waits got longer and longer. Eventually we offered an instant ‘meal’ which was a cup of soup and a baked potato wrapped in tin foil and a little carton of grated cheese. This helped us keep the wolf from the door but I think it is fait to say that as the hours progressed Meg got increasingly restive and agitated and was sometimes difficult to keep in a calm condition before we ere finally admitted to an assessment ward at 8.30 having been in the hospital I would say for 11+ hours.

The upshot of all of this is that the medics think that all major organs seem to be functioning but that the Alzheimer’s (which I have not explicitly mentioned until now) is taking its toll of Meg’s mobility and ability to stand. They would not allow Meg to be allowed home until a full and thorough assessment had been made by the hospitals physiotherapy and OT staff and a support package was well and truly in place. So a hospital stay of one or two nights in an assessment unit was to be put into effect and we would assess what support was needed for he future. There is a kind of irony in all of this in that GPs/social services regard the care they have been receiving as adequate but that the local hospital will not discharge until these have been enhanced. Tomorrow morning, there will have to be urgent talks with social services to see if Meg’s care package can be improved to include evening as well as morning care and who knows what else besides. So I will turn up at the hospital with Meg’s medications (that they did not stock) and perhaps a book or so. This evening, I gave my good University of Winchester friend a phone call so I could update him on Meg’s condition and call for a degree of moral support (which we do try and afford to each other as the conditions of our respective wives deteriorate)

So Saturday dawned and Meg and I almost overslept a little before our two carers made an appearance. We have now been supplied by the care agency with a schedule so that we know who we might expect and this morning it was a couple of sisters. I always like to establish some kind of relationships with the carers and asking about families never seems to be intrusive. The two sisters each had three children and they each worked closely with the other so that one or other of the threesome was under the care of their aunt if not their actual parents. This arrangement seemed to work pretty well as the cost of childcare would have wiped out a goodly part of their wages otherwise. Once we were breakfasted, we knew that we had Waitrose to which to look forward. Indeed, our friend, the veteran fell walker, was already there at our table waiting for us and we had a jolly old chat, made all the more worthwhile because we had not the opportunity of our normal Tuesday morning meeting. We always find a lot to chat about and after we updated each other of the events of the last few days, we amused ourselves by speaking of the very first jobs that we had when we first entered the labour market. In our friend’s case, it turned out to be working in a cake shop (which I informed her explained quite a lot because she still has a penchant for cup cakes). The first real employment as a Saturday job I had was as a chemist’s delivery boy – I was equipped with a boneshaker of an old black bike with an enormous basket on the front. I had to cycle over some of the immediate suburbs of Harrogate in Yorkshire to deliver medicines to a very aged clientele. I might point out that firm of chemists was very old and established and I think was only one of two in the town that still provided such a service. How I found my way around without a map I cannot honestly remember but I think that most of the clients were such old established regulars that it was quite easy to remember the route one had to take. When we were not busy and we were waiting for the prescriptions to be made up, I seem to spend my time stacking toilet rolls which I think was my very, very first paid job. We popped around the store to pick up a couple of items and bumped into our Irish friend who told us the rather unwelcome news that her neighbour, the French widow that we know well, was currently in hospital. She had some kind of leg problem which occasioned a fall but the medics are still in the process of making a diagnosis so meanwhile our friend is languishing in a local hospital. Our Irish friend was looking after her ‘marmalade’ cat who I know is rather suspicious of strangers so I wonder how he will take to that. Mind you, when Miggles (the cat who had adopted us) saw us, he stopped what she was doing in the centre of the lawn and made immediately for the back door with a little ‘Meow’ of welcome, knowing some food was in the offing.

After we had made the journey home, I started to think about a lunch that we wanted to have fairly expeditiously so that we would be all washed up, rested and waiting for the first Rugby match of the day which was to be Wales verses Italy. This match was so disappointing to watch as I tend always to support the Welsh team. But today, they played so badly it was unbelievable and made error after error, both straightforward handling errors, needless penalties and strategic errors as well. By three quarters of the way through the match, the Italians who were so much better organised and crisper on the ball were deservedly well ahead and the Welsh did not have a single point on the board. The Welsh started to get their act together but it was all too little and too late so the Italians, who are a much improved team, turned out to be the deserving winners and the Welsh finished off with the ‘wooden spoon’ i.e. at the bottom of the championship table. The Irish do not have to do too much to secure the championship for the second season in a row and they should quite easily secure this in their game against Scotland but England beat them last Saturday which was unexpected and unexpected things happen in Rugby. The really interesting match in this final weekend of the Six Nations competition is going to be England vs. France in France. This game is really a little too close to call at the moment and I believe that the 2nd place in the championship awaits the winner.

I keep an eye on my previous sector employment in a university and the news coming from that sector is not good at the moment. The universities have not been able to rely upon the income that they receive from domestic undergraduate students and increasingly have had to rely upon overseas students to keep themselves solvent. But the number of overseas students is reportedly some 37% down next year, so many universities are having to take drastic measures to reduce costs to stay solvent. This is always a dangerous move as cutting courses and reducing the number of students is also also reducing the university income. Some universities are considering mergers with nearby institutions but this does not reduce costs in the very short term. My previous employer, the University of Winchester, is considering cutting several humanities courses and as these used to be the mainstay of the university, perhaps their financial situation is somewhat perilous. I might send off an email to one or two of my colleagues stories to see if they can give me any inside information as to what is actually happening there.

Today was one of those days when you were not sure how it was going to turn out, but the day held some unexpected pleasures. After Meg and I were up and breakfasted, we started to turn our thoughts as to where we might have coffee this morning, and as we had missed out on going to the Methodist Centre this week, we thought this would be a good venue for a Friday morning. Our plans were to change somewhat, though. We had the regular visit from the Eucharistic Minister from our local church but she had experienced a fall and hurt her arm somewhat. As she plays the organ at church (for which you require two hands) as well as playing the cello, this injury was not at all welcome to her, particularly as there was a concert coming up and Easter, which is not far away, is always liturgically busy. Her husband had dropped her off at our house but when he returned, we were delighted to invite him inside so that the four of us could have a coffee together. The husband is extremely musical and has a fine singing voice so in no time, we were deep in conversation about things musical. It turned out that we have a lot more in common as well as the husband had trained at a teacher training college in Leeds and there were a lot of musical connections, principally in the south of the county (what used to be the West Riding of Yorkshire County Council) Our friend had a room-mate when he was in college who attended the same grammar school as I did in Leeds. I think we may have overlapped a little but I was only at that school for a couple of years before I left school so it is rather improbable that we met. But as we chatted, we discovered another and even more significant connection. Our friends are Trustees of the Midland Sinfonia group, a couple of members of whom we saw perform last Wednesday at the AgeUK club and who we chatted to over coffee. They are very good friends with the violinist with whom we had our photo taken which might end up on the orchestra’s website as part of their outreach programme. With having quite a lot of musical interests in common, Meg and I will look forward to further and even more extensive chats in the future.

Just before lunch, we realised that we really did need to make a lightning visit down into town, firstly to pick up our copy of the newspaper and secondly to relieve an ATM of some of its surplus cash. So we did this just before lunch which was a fish pie heating heated up in the oven. In the middle of the day, the Waitrose carpark was absolutely heaving which we did not really expect but we were delighted to get these little things done so that we could have an undisturbed afternoon. We are trying to get into a pattern so that Meg can have a nap immediately after lunch because if she does have a really deep doze, if not an actual sleep, she seems to survive the rest of the day so much better. I did consult our Prime Video schedules early this morning to espy something that we both like to watch this afternoon. Apart from one or two films that can wait until we are in the mood, I spotted one on the life of Mozart which I think is available to us and to which I am eagerly looking forward on the late afternoon. Last night, after I had got myself ready for bed, I tuned into ‘Question Time‘ which I watch occasionally if only to try to judge the mood of ‘Middle England’. Last night, the government minister allocated to the programme was forced to try to defend the extension of the terrorism definitions that had been unveiled during the course of the day. As sometimes happens, some of the most devastating critiques come from members of the public who are often much more pointed and direct than some of the other politicians. The most devastating critique came from an audience member who directed his anger along the lines of ‘how can you possible have the brass neck to try to extend definitions of terrorism when a prominent donor to the Tory party has expressed his hatred of female black politicians and wished for the death of one of them and No. 10 only very, very belatedly acknowledged that the donor in question had expressed racist views’. The story, which is still current, is receiving even more twists as it appears that other donations to the £10 million already donated to the Tory party have been received and the Tories are in no mind to return any of this money. So politicians are able to accuse the Tory party that they are quite happy to be bankrolled (and will not disown) overt racists and this must be a clear sign of the low depths to which the modern Tory party has sunk, to the despair of more moderate Tories such as the Conservative mayor of Birmingham, Andy Street, who has said publically that if it were left up to him he would return the money immediately. If a story runs on for more than three or so more days, then this is always bad news for any political party. Last night, not a single member of the audience would show their hands in favour of the government’s new policy of extending the definition of terrorism which just seems to many to be an overtly populist and electioneering ploy by the government.

We knew that today was going to be quite a busy day and so it has proved so far. We got off to a good start as the carers arrived on time and we got Meg all ready (but not yet breakfasted) by 8.30. At this time, we were expecting a call from a fairly local firm of chair lift installers who had been recommended to us by one of the occupational therapists when they called around the other day. As it was a family firm, the proprietor himself called round to make the assessment – he was on his way to another installation so it was not much out of his way. I was impressed by that was said to me and, after our last visit by a stair lift salesman I now knew the questions that needed to be asked. I always like doing business with smaller, family run firms if I can and when I was quoted an extremely competitive price.I accepted it on the spot because I knew all I needed to know and there seemed to be no point in further shopping around. So we have fixed an installation date for a week on Monday which is 11 days time and I am pretty sure that we can survive until then. What particularly impressed me was the proprietor had been the chief engineer and installer of Stannah stairlifts for practically 20 years so what he did not know about the product could be written onto the back of the proverbial postage stamp. So after this person had come and gone, it was time for our carer to call so that I could go and do some shopping. But Meg and I had an appointment booked with the dental hygienist so that we knew that time was very tight. I decided that I had a little window of time of about 40 minutes so I calculated that I could get to a local store, do a ‘reduced’ week’s shopping and still get back in time to get us to the dentists on time. So I raced around getting some of the bare essentials from the supermarket and was then back in time to give me 30 minutes to get to the dentist. I knew that I needed a ramp at the other end to get over a steep step but we arrived in time and then saw the very friendly hygienist to whom we have been going for about the last ten years. She was absolutely marvellous and had arranged for Meg to go into a treatment room downstairs so we did not have to cope with stairs and then she and I got Meg into position out of the wheelchair and onto the couch ready for the treatment. As we have got older, Meg and I like to go to the hygienist regularly every six months with a dental appointment every six months as well which means that out mouths get examined every three months on average. COVID rather played havoc with this normal timetable of appointments but we are gradually getting back into a more normal pattern. So I suspect that Meg was pretty tired by the end of the morning because we had not had our normal supply of coffee and a smidgeon of carbohydrate so I cracked on with lunch as soon as I got into the house. We had half a large quiche ready to be heated up in the oven for our lunch today and I complemented this with a mixture of fried onions, peppers and petit pois, popped into the oven for the last ten minutes to give a lovely roasted flavour. When Meg and I lived in Southampton, we used to visit a city in Southern Spain called Murcia for which there were direct flights by FlyBe from our local airport. The local speciality in that region is roasted vegetables which we tended to have for breakfast every morning as they were so delicious but I dare say that roasted veg is not everybody’s idea of a breakfast.

The mood amongst Tory MPs is best described by the adjective ‘jittery’ In their heart of hearts, the Tory MPs know that they are going to get a thumping at the next election and about half of them will lose their seats at the election. Moreover, as the scale of their defeat is likely to be large, then it takes ‘a landslide to get rid of a landslide’ so it is probable that the Tories will be out of power for ten years and perhaps even longer. Rishi Sunak’s team no longer deny that things are bad. The mood amongst MPs is febrile, unhappy, tense and uncertain and many are letting this be known privately, through Sir Graham Brady, and some are saying so publicly. What is being unveiled today is an extremely complex task of refining the boundaries of what constitutes ‘terrorist’ organisation. This is the sort of thing for which there really needs to be a cross party consensus but there is a feeling that is widely shared that the government is bringing forward legislation at this time both to follow a populist agenda and also with electioneering very clearly in mind. The macabre thing is that some of the utterances of Tory MPs and supporters (one is thinking of the recently defected Lee Anderson as well as the racist rants of Tory donors) could fall within the definition of ‘terrorism’ which one suspects is being squarely aimed at the radical elements of Muslim opinion but not at the plethora of right wing political parties, pressure groups not to mention broadcasting stations (GB News) So the latest set of proposals is to list various organisations and to call them ‘terrorist’ and this labelling can only be challenged at great expense in the High Court. Tory MPs are worried because some feel that freedom of speech issues are involved, whilst others fret that it is just one more policy that is likely to blow up in their faces as an election approaches.

I suppose the middle of the night ranks as being of today’s contributions but the day did not get off to a flying start. Last night, my University of Winchester friend and I had a planned Skype conversation, where we had to lot of communicate to each other as we are both immersed in the care that we need to give to our wives who suffer from different ailments but whose symptoms appear to quite closely match each other. We give each other some advice and helpful support but have to Skype at a time when we are free from caring responsibilities. So I was a little later to bed than is usual for me because I needed to do some financial updates but when I eventually got to bed, I found the bedroom light on (an ominous sign) and Meg on the bedroom floor. Getting her up is no easy task but perhaps superior to calling out the specialist Falls service where one has to wait hours sometimes. So getting Meg up, toileted and back into bed again with an arrangement of my own devising to prevent her falling out of bed took the about three quarters of an hour which is evidently so much less sleep during the night. So this morning, I was pretty tired (as Meg had had a total of four falls in the previous 24 hours) and after Meg was up and breakfasted, I promptly fell fast asleep in my chair. Then I woke up with a start, realising that we only had about 20 minutes to get off to our social engagement this morning. Every second Wednesday of the month, we go off to an event organised by AgeUK in the Bromsgrove rugby club premises and today the highlight of the morning was going to be a performance given by some musicians called the Midland Sinfonia. In the event, it was a violinist and a cellist and they played some light classical pieces as well as some fairly well known tunes that lend themselves to being played on stringed instruments (for example, ‘Smoke gets in your eyes’) After we had had our little concert, the musicians mingled with us and Meg and I finished up being photographed with the violinist and another club member (who I suspect was the oldest of us attending there today) We were told that the photo would be published on the group’s website as part of their ‘Outreach’ programme so this will be interesting to look out for. Whilst I was in conversation with the violinist, she informed me that the whole ensemble conducted informal and ‘open’ rehearsal sessions in a church in a neighbouring village. I think this was followed by tea and cakes and a chance to mingle. The violinist told me approximately when the other rehearsal sessions were to be and she promised to email me with some of the details so we could turn up if the spirit moves us. One date that she mentioned happened to be my birthday in May so it might be worthwhile getting a ‘free’ concert and some tea and cakes on that particular day.

Tomorrow we will need to be juggling several commitments at one. At the start of the day, someone is going to pop by from a firm in Droitwich to give us a quote for the installation of a stair lift. We are also due to visit the dental hygienist and the dentist phoned up mid-morning to ask if we would mind if our appointment was brought forward by half an hour. Although last time we visited the dentist, things were all on the ground floor, I am not sure if some specialised arrangements are going to made when Meg and I attend tomorrow because there is normally a steep flight of stairs to negotiate which would actually be beyond us. Even getting into the dentist is going to prove problematic because the premises has a very steep step at its entrance so I suspect tat we have to dive inside and ask for an access ramp to be deployed so that we can actually get in. I normally have shopping to think about on a Thursday but given other commitments this will necessitate some rearrangement.

Prime Ministers Questions should have been an open goal for Keir Starmer but he seems to have flunked his attack. The case in question was the biggest Tory donor, Frank Hester, who is reported to have said Dianne Abbott (the first black female MP) made him ‘want to hate all black women’ and that she ‘should be shot’. This was so evidently a racist comment and was roundly condemned by all sides of the political spectrum but it took an intervention from Kemi Badenoch, the Trade minister, to spur Downing Street into action and after quite some delay and prevarication to admit this comment was racist. The Rishi Sunak ‘line’ is that the donor in question had shown some contrition and therefore the debate should move on. But there is an evident line of attack that the Tories should return the donation from such a dubious and questionable source but the money might already have been spent.

Today was one of those days with more than its fair share of frustrations but days like this come along every so often. The two car workers turned up almost on cue although one was a little delayed but when she arrived helped me with some bed making. We knew that after breakfast a couple of OTs (Occupational Therapists) were due to show up at about 10.30 and for this reason, we had forewarned our Waitrose friends that we would not be able to see them for coffee this morning. Of the two OTs who came long this morning, one was a ‘Falls’ specialist nurse and the other an occupational therapist. As always, they tried to be super helpful and brought along a piece of kit which may prove its worth in the days and weeks ahead. This was called a ‘handling belt’ and you put it on the patient much as weight-lifters put on special belts to ensure that the vertebrae in their backs do not ‘pop out’. This belt has some special handles around the sides and the concept is that you have more points of contact if assisting a very frail person (which is what Meg is these days) The two OTs and myself made a trip into the bedroom so that we could discuss how Meg is to be handled getting her out of bed and into the en-suite shower room and then back again once washed and dressed. They also brought along a special little sheet which may help to get Meg into the right position once she is finally settled into bed. Coming downstairs we hd some discussion as whether the armchair that Meg sits in is suitable – on the one hand it is superbly comfortable but tends to slope backwards and is a little difficult to get out of. From my point of view, this is fine as if Meg gets out of a chair on her own, she tends to stagger and then fall and I am left to pick up the pieces, as it were. So I was just saying to them that whereas Meg tended to fall about once a day, this frequency had ben reduced recently so Meg’s lack of mobility has a type of bonus. Needless to say, I spoke too soon because Meg has had three falls today and we are not near the end of the day yet. After the OTs had left, I received a telephone call from the representative of a stairlift company who had been scheduled to come along some time in the late afternoon but had had a cancellation and wondered if he could squeeze me in some time just after 12.00pm. So this visit came and went and the representative was a non-nonsense ex-footballer with whom I struck up a rapport. He assured me there would be no hard selling as that is the last thing in the world that I wanted or needed so I am left with a quote wondering whether the somewhat higher price than competitors might be worth it in the long run for the extra quality. I have another two options still to be explored. One of the OTs mentioned to me a family firm in Droitwich which I contacted and got a good response from one of the owners. He is going to fit me in on Thursday morning on his way to a much bigger installation job in this part of the world so that will give me another option to consider. Finally, there is a firm located on a trading estate in Bromsgrove which I located to more sure it was ‘findable’ when Meg and I were coming back from Droitwich yesterday so that provides me with a third supplier whose quotes I can then assess. I have been told by two sources that if you were to wait for the local authority to perhaps install a stair lift there would be a wait of 18 months and given that the need is immediate then perhaps I will not even bother to explore this. However, I did have a contact at Age Concern that I am trying to contact (although she is process of handing over her role to another volunteer) which might be able to access some funds to help defray the cost. I am coming to the view, also, that social services have been completely hollowed out by the present government who have totally denuded the social services budgets at a time when demand is going through the roof. Today, I tried to contact social services through their Worcestershire hub and was in a queue of 10 and told that if I did not get a reply within 45 minutes, I should try again tomorrow (when the result will be the same) I then managed to locate the area team responsible for Bromsgrove but after waiting for about 15 minutes received a curt message to say that no-one was available to take my call and the call was terminated. I got the same result when I tried again about an hour later. I mentioned this to the OTs who said they even though they sent through urgent requests to social services via email, this too failed to elicit a response.

Tomorrow, Meg and I have an event to which we can both look forward. Age Concern runs a special cafe for people in the same category as Meg and we meet on the second Wednesday of every month. Tomorrow we are going to be treated to the ‘Midlands Sinfonia’ which is probably a group of musicians of quartet or quintet size who will probably play us some well known classical favourites. But it is is always good to listen to a live performance so I am sure that whatever is played, Meg and I will derive some enjoyment from it tomorrow morning.

Last night, after Meg was safely tucked up in bed, I started to do some of the outstanding tasks. The most important of these was to respond to a communication from DVLC to renew my driving licence – this has to be done every three years once one has passed the age of 70. Fortunately, I am able to tick the box that requires you to certify that you can read a number plate at the requisite number of yards. We go to the opticians on a regular basis each year and whereas a few years ago, our optician informed me that I met the standard due to advancing years and the long sight that comes with it (presbyopia) I now easily meet the standard. Most of the online form was easy to complete as I have my NI number off by heart for decades now but my passport number, I have only just committed to memory. So I had to creep into our secret cupboard to retrieve my passport number half way through the exercise but at the same time gave permission for any of my organs to be used for whatever reason when the appointed day arrives. The form submitted OK and although DVLC informed me there were still some validation checks to be done, I am reasonably confident that all should be plain sailing from this point on. As time goes by, the various government agencies seem to talk to each other reasonably well and in this case, the DVLC can retrieve the digitised photo which appears on my passport to also appear on my driving licence. All of this was done at no charge as well.

This morning has been a rather frustrating experience but we all occasionally have days like this. Making some preparations for the eventual installation of a chairlift, I found the address of an organisation that seems to act as a managing agent, managing the transactions between the local authority on the one hand and the supplier of equipment on the other. The address seemed to be near our usual route into Droitwich so I thought I would make this the prime focus of our visit this morning. Ominously, the SatNav did not give me the chance to enter a house number but in my search for a No. 22 I found 21 and 23 and no idea here 22 might be (as there were no other houses on the other side of the road) So Meg and I went off to for our normal cup of tea and a bacon butty and then resumed our search afterwards. During our coffee break, I consulted my notes and realised that I should have been looking for a No. 9 which you would think was straightforward. But in the row of retail outlets, generally unnumbered, I found a Chinese takeaway with the number ‘7’ put on the door with some yellow insulating tape but the Asian run fish-and-chip shop next door told me they were number 13 so what had happened to Nos. 9 and 11, I have no idea. After I had got home, I telephoned the two numbers which a website had given to me. The first resulted in my call being terminated with a a few seconds whereas the second resulted in an automated BT message telling me that I had dialled an incorrect number (which I had not, as I checked on the internet) So we gave all of that up as a bad job and I returned home, a little grumpy and frustrated and commenced to cook the dinner (largely pre-prepared for yesterday’s meal and so easy to rustle up).

The political news this afternoon is rather taken up by the defection of Lee Anderson to the Reform party, thus completing a journey from the centre (where was a Labour councillor) to the far right, where he is the first MP of the Reform party (i.e. ex-Brexit party) Nigel Farage has welcomed him with open arms and many Conservative MP’s are shuddering with fright. If the Reform party stand in every single constituency, which is their stated intention, then they will probably not gain a single seat as their support is spread too thinly. But by peeling off votes that would otherwise have gone to the Conservative party, this opens the door for a Lib-Lab candidate to take the seat. To some extent, we have seen this before decades ago because Margaret Thatcher was successful by having the opposition to het split between the Labour Party, the Liberals, and the newly formed SDP. Margaret Thatcher, who is still revered today, regularly gained about 40% of the available vote but if the turnout was about 70% then the maths indicated that only about 1 in 4 of the electorate actually voted for Margret Thatcher at the height of her power. The Reform party have an interesting long term agenda which is to splinter the Conservative vote so they undoubtedly lose the next election and then push as hard as they can for PR in whatever political situation emerges. This argument only works if the electoral arithmetic means that any incoming administration such as a Labour one has to rely upon the votes of smaller parties. But if the Reform ‘strategy’ is successful, then the Conservative party will probably be out of power for at least one election so we are taking about ten years in total. So we live in interesting times!