Visiting hours 2 – 5
By Rhiannonw
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She was recovering from a knee op
and was moved to convalesce in the
cottage hospital just down the road.
“Visiting hours 2 – 5”
Oblivious to signs of weariness,
he thought that she would expect him there
from 2 to 5, and appreciate his thoughtfulness.
She had never been able to give
clear hints, nor he to pick them up:
frustration, exasperation rose.
He came home early sometimes, hurt.
So keen for her to return home.
‘I’ll do that job’,
and he would forget.
She, a workaholic would do what
she shouldn’t, but couldn’t
bear to wait or remind.
‘I’m going to my daughter's to stay.
You look after her’
‘You take me down.’
Dementia sings creeping in
on top of historic inablity
to see others’ point of veiw.
Daugher not asked,
son (chauffer) not asked.
Daughter took at least a couple of weeks
to recover from the confusing bossy visit.
Prepare for old age!
[IP: Remember]
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Comments
Long long ago when I was a
Long long ago when I was a working man, many of my clients were care home residents, usually suffering from dementia. Some seemed happy and many more seemed quite unhappy but whatever the case their families (if they bothered to visit them at all) seemed filled with despair. Having elderly relatives in a care home was upsetting for them, especially considering that they had to rely on overworked and underpaid care staff to not only look after their loved ones but also convey information about them, The alternative option of having them at home was almost impossible, though the elderly person in question wouldn't see that and ensured that the pulling of the heart strings became more of an emotional tug of war.
Although your poem is about a lady convalescing in a hospital, the words describe perfectly countless dozens of sad situations I witnessed in the care homes. I often remember some of the people I saw, many of whom I was able to have a conversation and even a laugh with. It wasn't all doom and gloom. But what I remember most clearly is hoping that I would never find myself in living in such a place ... for my sake and my family's sake.
I very much enjoyed reading this even though it brought back some slightly unwelcome memories. But it's good to be aware of these things because we can never tell what is just around the corner.
There is no more disgusiting drink than a cup of care home tea ... two teabags in a gallon of water with milk and sugar added while it is still in the pot. I don't want to see out my days like that. I'd rather drink Mr Muscle.
Turlough
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It's sad to know that your
It's sad to know that your family has needed to use care homes but I'm pleased to hear that you have some good positive things to say about them. There are a few terrible places which get in the news and it leads to the good ones being tarred with the same brush. This annoys me as I have seen the work that goes into keeping sometimes very difficult people not just alive but happy and stimulated twenty four hours a day. I really admire the carers because I couldn't do their job and remain as cheerful as most of them manage to do. I never used to work in these places for more than half a day at a time because it was hard work and often depressing.
As for the humour aspect of this, I fully understand what you mean. I can think of many incidents that were very funny at the time and that I could write amusing stories about but I just wouldn't be comfortable with it. I would be laughing at those poor people rather than laughing with them and effectively taking advantage of them even though at this stage I am sure they have all passed away.
Your mother-in-law sounds lovely. It's incredible how some elderly people can find peace once they have someone really caring for them even though at the beginning the change is quite an ordeal for them. I wish it could turn out this way for more people. I'm sure the vast majority of them deserve it.
I'm going for a cup of tea now ... a nice one!
Turlough
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Hope you are still
Hope you are still convalescing well?
Your mother in law must be happy to be living so long :0)
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A painful topic to write on,
A painful topic to write on, but a powerful poem, which I enjoyed. I must be truthful and say that mental health is perhaps my greatest fear. I don't see my beloved daughter from one month to the next, but she is incredibly loving and caring. She has a husband who needs her and when I wistfully miss her presence it is of self I am thinking. I pray that I can treasure the moments if joy in the brief periods of solitude. Love, love love. Given so gracefully and so often ignored until it is absent.
Thank you for writing this Rhiannon
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