Wednesday, 21 December 2011
Kissing in the wind
Arrived at Grandad’s right on time and added all the food we’d taken with us to his already bursting fridge. We visited Grandma on the 9th floor. She was very slow and got sad when she couldn’t hug me.
One of the nurses tried to explain to Grandad about tumble drying and so forth. In the ward, the old lady opposite quacks, hootles, chirrups and calls for the nurse every 2 ½ minutes, day and night. The old lady in the corner sits primly in her high chair looking genially around the room, upright and smart. But there is Nobody Home. The one in the next bed is always on oxygen but never wakes up. The one diagonally opposite died last night but her name remains on the chart above her empty bed. Thus it is not a happy place for Grandma to be stuck and I am developing a healthy dislike for that all-pervading aroma of terminal antiseptic which I call “Blood”.
They took turns to escort me around the hospital via the lifts. We found the childrens’ ward and their train set that is just like mine and Bens’ but eventually we were rumbled as intruders, technically, and we had to go. Then we visited Giant Tesco where I got a Tom & Jerry DVD and GDad bought a microwave oven: we christened it cooking my supper of Jof’s macaroni cheese and some lasagne that GMa had left for me. The cat is small but very noisy and doesn’t understand why it isn’t on your lap being fed prawns, much like a feline five year-old.
Bud made supper but then GDad felt unwell: he says it’s remarkable that he has not already poisoned himself, and the cat was the surprised yet replete beneficiary of Jof’s shepherd’s pie.