The aged FIL is still in the Cardiology unit at the recuperation centre. LSS had a telephone call a couple of days ago. It was the doctor in charge of the Geriatrics unit, who had been asked to look at the aged FIL by the doctor from Cardiology.
“We can’t understand why he doesn’t want to do any exercises. The operation was a success, so he should practically be jumping up and down and running around the block by this stage. Could you perhaps give me some background?”
“Ah! Finally! I did try to tell a member of your staff his background when he arrived in your care, but the person didn’t want to know.”
She then explained his background, and that he had been in bed for the past three years. This was greeted by a stunned silence. Then: “Oh, I see. That explains a lot.”
His date of discharge is apparently set for the 15th; he may just as well be lying in bed at home being looked after by the carers, than lying in bed in the recuperation centre not being looked after by those carers. They would bring him his tray of food, and take it away again whether he had eaten anything or not; the fact that he can’t hold a knife and fork properly seemed to have escaped their notice until a few days ago. Now at least someone tries to help him to eat. Apparently most of the other patients in Cardiology trot off to the canteen on their own, even the aged FIL’s room-mate (74). There seems to be a bit of a lack of common sense in the medical care profession these days. (Well, everywhere, really!)
M has moved into a rather nice little house in a village near by. She asked for our help in unloading a new sofa and gas cooker; but when we arrived everything had already been done – courtesy of some other local friends.
The pumpkin ale has finally been bottled, and I now have a batch of mead bubbling away merrily. LSS discovered several pots of honey in the dark recesses of the pantry at the aged FIL. It’s probably at least 15 years old, because it was given to the late MIL by a long-gone relative. There were 3.5 kilograms of the stuff. It still tasted all right, but as it would take us another fifteen years to eat it all, we decided to make mead instead.