Day 2,202 in (REALLY ACTUALLY IN) The Nanny June Care Home.

The One With A Prison Visit

So this was almost a week ago. I have had some traumatic times in that care home, the most notable of which is sitting with my dad in the days and nights as he died and being there the moment he passed away.

Last Monday did not equal that. But the emotional punch it gave me was ruthless and powerful. It's taken me a week to process it.

With much effort, planning and no doubt expense a room at the care home has been transformed into a modern, relaxing and welcoming visiting space; with a floor to ceiling, wall to wall, glass screen. A solid barrier except from the two glove holes which lead to hard plastic immovable gloves, which are the same as you would use to diffuse a nuclear warhead if you were in a film with Tom Cruise. Or Brad Pitt. Or Nanny June's favourite - Robert Redford.

Conveniently and hilariously there were also some disposable gloves for me to wear before inserting my arms into the nuclear warhead diffusing apertures. These are same gloves that vets wear when calving. Or zoo keepers wear for giving an anema to an elephant.

I took one look at the gloves and thought, Nanny June won't touch those. Nanny June looked at them and exclaimed with plain disgust that she was not touching them.

Nanny June was already in the foulest of moods. The world was against her and she was against it. Wheeled in to the new visiting room she was positioned up against the glass and given a headset that she refused to wear. I was given a head set that I also refused to wear. COVID aside, eww. Other people have touched that.

If you had spoken to the me from a year ago and described the bizarre set of circumstances we would be living under, I would have got you to repeat yourself at least once. Put me in a room and say, "we have had to install a glass barrier because there's a deadly virus and we have to protect you and everyone in here" I would have assumed we were in a Will Smith film.

Nanny June took the bare facts of the matter with good grace. I flippantly said "just pretend you are talking to me in prison!" Nanny June made that amazed/angry/WHAT HAVE YOU DONE parent face and replied "you are in prison?!".

So that went well.

Her mood did not get better.

We are never unaccompanied for these new COVID secure visits. So crying in front of a stranger is becoming a new COVID norm which is excellent.

After half an hour Nanny June exclaimed with joy "you're Elizabeth! The little one." and I said yes (little = youngest and I was also born prematurely and very small).

At this point she had an overwhelming urge to touch me and realised the gloves were our only potential point of contact. She touched them and grimaced but persevered. I put my arms through the calving/elephant enema gloves and into the nuclear detonation equipment.

For one brief moment we 'touched' hands before Nanny June recoiled in horror.

She couldn't do it.

So I asked her to put the palm of her hand on the glass. I shouted actually because we both are still refusing to wear the headsets.

I put my hand up against the glass on my side to meet hers and we just had a moment.

I said "can you feel me?".

She said "yes".

I said "I love you".

She said "I love you too".

Then paused and said "lots and lots".

We managed that glass contact three times, I figured they are disinfecting the place anyway.

Nanny June kept asking to come over onto my side.

Tears streaming down my face I turn away so the complete stranger who gate crashes each visit can't see, and put my face in profile to Nanny June. "Can you see I wore make up today and did my hair?" I say. "Just especially to come and see you". No response. "Do I look beautiful?" I prompt. Nanny June stared intently then just made an unimpressed meh noise and kind of shrug. And on that note we ended the visit.

Unfortunately the random member of staff chose then to say "right then let's go back to The Unit" and Nanny June right there and then believed wholeheartedly that she was in some sort of psychiatric unit. And who can blame her - visiting rights, screens for protection, everything wipe clean, supervision and your home being called The Unit.

I did complain about that when I rang to arrange a visit for next week. But I can't visit for a while, there is a two week waiting list.

So I have asked that Nanny June can be taken for a bit of orientation time so the vibe isn't quite so nuclear next time. Even if it looks like it.