Day 3,620 (frustratingly not) in the Nanny June Care Home

The one with the Covid. Still.

As well as the many disasters and disruptions Covid has caused it has also caused a hiatus. A pause. Life seems to have come to a halt in March 2020 and never really got going properly again. I read somewhere on the internet that twenties pandemics are a thing… apparently in 1720 there was the Plague, in 1820 Cholera, and in 1920 the Spanish Flu, then 2020 - Covid. I haven't fact checked any of that.

When the world returns to normal and once again forgets what we learned as a society surviving a pandemic, it won’t actually ‘return’ to normal. Nanny June can’t just bounce back to her pre-pandemic self. She isn’t ‘stuck’ in March 2020. She is possibly stuck somewhere though. My rough guess would be June 1945.

Have you ever knocked something off a counter top or dropped something and then tried to catch it? Then instead of missing it entirely or catching it beautifully you have become a cartoon version of yourself, animatedly trying to grab it and almost getting there a number of times before it smashes on the floor.

This was Nanny June and me pre pandemic. Constantly dropping her concept of ‘us’ but almost catching it each time before it was going to end up destroyed in pieces on the ground. I was around enough to add another false catch. Enough to trick us we were going to be okay. This time. This time. This time. Then Covid. Now we are in bits on the floor.

I have been to the care home for a number of reasons; paying some money into Nanny June’s ‘nice things’ account - for things like getting her hair done by the hair dresser. The home have a little area set up with the mirrors on the wall with the chair in front so it feels like a salon. It’s quite cute.

I went to drop off Christmas presents so they could be quarantined before Christmas Day. Mainly chocolate including a silly amount of Turkish Delight. I wouldn't have seen Nanny June on Christmas Day. I didn't pre dementia. She wasn't a big fan as she got older. One day I found her sorting out items she didn't want anymore, almost wearing the pavement down in trips to and from the charity shop. I took car loads of stuff for her too. This was hard, not wanting to let go of possessions that she obviously did. I missed her off loading the Christmas decorations and will forever regret that. I would have loved some of our old mass produced 1970's and 80's tree decorations. A lovely bit of nostalgia. Because that's where we are now. Living mostly in the past. But the Christmas decorations all went went in a fit of elderly liberation. No time for the time and effort Christmas takes anymore. She didn't want to see anyone on Christmas Day as she got older. Her friend came over for a glass of sherry in the afternoon and fell asleep in the armchair and that was as festive and wild as it got.

After the last visit I had a really difficult time convincing myself I wanted to go. Because I didn’t. Any rejection is hard. Dealing with any irrationally angry person is hard. Realising you have provoked someone unintentionally is hard. Combining all these things and make it about your mum is just too much. Then know that your best case scenario is disinterested blankness then it is all too hard emotionally. When my dad was in a care home, I pretty much almost always cried. Tears rolling down my face. His lovely personality meaning he was distressed at my distress. So I couldn’t cry. Which means some days I did not stay long. So I got upset about that too. Some days I just couldn’t go. I am wiser this time. Maybe harder. I walk in and don’t cry. I cry afterwards.

Covid restrictions means there is a time limit on how long before I can arrange a visit but each time I felt resilient enough to go and rang to make a visit arrangement, I didn’t get an answer. The isolation restrictions following a positive Covid test means that there are a number of staff off of work at the care home. One day I rang five times and didn’t get an answer as all the office staff were off.

And then we got Covid in our house and then it was ten days before I could think about it again But then each time I rang over the last few weeks I was unable to get an answer.

So Covid rages on, not contained and decimating life as we know it. Let's all get back to normal everyone says. I can't though. I don't live 'normal'. Nanny June doesn't live 'normal'. It would be good if the office staff could though. Just so I could get an answer of the phone.

(Photo by null xtract from Pexels)