Room Six - Tooting Bec Asylum...1982

I can only say, how compassionate and caring the staff are where my father-in-law is. (and it is just a basic nursing home, largely council funded, they have recently introduced a very minimal top-up and of course there is always means testing).
He panics when moved, feels unsafe, and they just get it done with soothing but as despatchfully as possible, and he is quite happy after. Others sometimes are angry/confused, but they seem to defuse the situation largely by carrying on placidly, but with gentle comment and concern, but often knowing they cannot really answer the confusion that the person is saying. Rhiannon

To me, this is very much about her own desperation at a confused interpretation of the uncaring situation she finds herself in, and also that for those looking after her (the elderly) it's often more than easy to forget that they are just us further down the line - skills and attributes forgotten, except to family who feel sad that others didn't know the loved one in better times. Such a relief if, like Rhiannon's father-in-law, a kind and caring establishment is found - but still sad. The poem is heartbreaking, Tina,  and sadly, more than real. 

'Hands that once had baked
fresh scones for Sunday tea,
taught a daughter how to sew –
a son to brush his teeth...

can only cover her eyes...'  - ------------ that's my favourite bit. 

probably would profit you to cut the first 2 lines.

and perhaps cut "hands that once had baked"

i couldn't keep up with the typing for your prolificness.

swep 

Tragic, what happens to some if us as we grow older, Tina. Or those who suffer from mental illness. Comoassion is a must. Wonderful write, as always, Tina. 

Ruch