Day 1,040 in the Nanny June Care Home

The One With The Ghosts of Christmas Past & Present & Future.

Nanny June hosted great family affairs in the past - almost 20 people each Christmas for a significant number of years.

Time and traditions move on and eventually it was just my parents and me and then, occasionally us visiting family. Mostly then just them staying at home.

As age crept in, putting up decorations became a bore for them, and the Christmas tree was a miserable task which would only serve to generate the other unwelcome job of taking it back down and putting it all away.

Then Nanny June found herself living alone in a one bedroom bungalow and a modest, minimal Christmas was temporarily revived. Random tacky decorations rescued from charity shops took pride of place in front of net curtains, while plastic Santa’s looked on with a vacant face of fixed cheer.

Nanny June diligently scoured the tv listings, cheerily opened the sherry and merrily cooked a Christmas Dinner for one with all the trimmings.

A good friend came over for a chat and a sherry in the afternoon and at least one of them fell asleep and I imagine it took a while for the other one to even notice.

The arrival of my Mini Morries and the shift in festive focus that small children brings left Nanny June behind a bit.

The noise and chaos of a young family which brings the unpredictability of small children being ill, disrupting routines, having meltdowns and so on were an unattractive proposition. The sherry and quiet life won out.

Especially as dementia crept in, our chaotic lifestyle was not okay for compromised neurological processing.

So now Nanny June has Christmas dinner en masse in an environment now mirroring the very one she was desperate to avoid - just now it is residents in care potentially being ill, disrupting routines, having meltdowns.

But there is space to retreat and lie down. Her room, however pungent - is her sanctuary. And I keep her in a supply of sherry. Which I suspect the staff intend to flow less freely than I would hope.

It has been a difficult few days... serious, intense and stressful days. Issues with the care of Nanny June were raised by external professionals and an emergency meeting was held.

More meetings are to follow with assessments and care plans to go with it... but for now I’ll leave you with this:

‘Tis the week before Christmas and throughout the care home, Nanny June could be heard shouting “just leave me alone”.

The room stinks of ammonia the staff had to take care,

To dodge the puddles of pee they knew would be there;

Nanny June needed to be all snug in her bed

While Alzheimer’s ravaged the thoughts in her head;

But the care home fear they can’t manage her care,

And are perplexed, and frustrated, and can’t stop the nightmare

"Now, Nanny June! now, stop with the wee!

the room smells! and you smell! the staff choke as well!”

Throughout every part of their shift the staff answer the call!

To “wash away! Wash away! Wash away all!"

The challenges of dementia care are never too few

With community psychiatric nurses, now involved too—

As I gave my account, and heard what had been found,

That Nanny June’s room had been kept out of bounds;

For the staff’s health and safety, from the fumes of ammonia,

And the fumes from deep cleaning the floor and the furniture;

While a lost Nanny June would wander the place,

seeking out her own room, her own time and space.

Her mood—how it worsened! Her compliance, all gone!

Her words turned to curses, her defiance so strong!

Her tight little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the heart in her chest was as cold as the snow;

The stump of compassion she’d held for the staff,

Went up in smoke, when they even suggested a bath;

She had a few accidents and a little too many

And she moved far too slow, and her legs turned to jelly.

In a blink of the eye, memories twist in her head

And it pains me to know the future I dread;

Because there’s always a person, to keep within sight—

Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.