More crazy days

The last couple of weeks have seen us running about the country - to Nottingham, place of us grownups birth - on family business.  Father in Law has been offered a sheltered flat in Park Gate, after being on the local council waiting list since March.  So, two weeks ago, we had to go up to Nottingham to fetch him to have a look at it.

Fortunately he approved, so the council and the Housing Association whose property it is have also been busy getting the paperwork filled in.  Last weekend (a bank holiday) I took him back to Nottingham to start packing and generally closing his life down up there.  K came with me to help, and came back with some new bruises due to failing to use the door way as an entrance to a building.  Dyspraxia rules!

We then spent all week packing up what he wants to bring with him, and taking piles of rubbish and old magazines/newspapers up to the tip.  There's still plenty of tip work for us and a few more things to bring down but that will happen over the next few weeks.  On Thursday I realised that K was due on scout camp at Thorpe Park this weekend (as in the following day).  Needless to say, it didn't happen.  I sent many apologies to the leader and explained what had happened.  K wasn't overly distressed, especially after I promised her a day out at half-term to make up for being a sieve-head.

Father in Law seems to live 'in the now', with very little sense of urgency to plan ahead or remember chronology, so it has been very interesting.  I left him a pile of paperwork to sort through and file - even bought a file and plastic baggies for him - but I ended up chucking it all in a box yesterday.  Then, yesterday, he starts deciding what he'd like packing from upstairs.  He's had all flippin' week to tell me that but waits till the van's outside (driven up from here by A, accompanied by D) and nearly all full.  Minor grrrrr.

Once the van was loaded, and an early lunch was had, we all set off back down here.  I tell you, my car could do the journey without any input from me; it's certainly done it an awful lot this year as we tried to sort him out.  Father in Law slept most of the way down, and most of the time since he's been here.

Today we are moving into his new place.  K & I have a hot date at Curves first thing - they're starting their weight management classes today so we can't put it off - then we'll head back; by which time most of the heavy lifting will be done and A will be done in.

We have to go and order/buy a new fridge/freezer for Father in Law.  He assures me he bought it in the 60's, except that a) I know that style didn't exist then, and b) A can remember it being bought when he was about ready for secondary school (late 70's).  Either way it was in no fit state to be taken anywhere but the tip.  There was rancid milk accumulating on the bottom and going a lovely shade of blue, the drain pipe at the back was black with gunk, and it really needed a good scrub.  It also stank.  And don't get me started about the bag of cabbage that had turned to a vile, green liquid.  Father in Law says he has no sense of smell and I believe him.

Before anyone berates us for letting things get that bad for him, it wasn't through lack of effort on our part.  Up until the past 6 months or so we have been told politely but firmly to 'butt out'.  There's not a lot you can do about that without alienating him completely.  Six months ago he decided that he couldn't cope any more and that he thought he was becoming a bit forgetful (we'd been noticing it for a few years).  Since then we have been making enquiries, plans, and generally scheming to sort him out.  The local council here were happy to put him on their waiting list for somewhere suitable.  I am organising an Occupational Therapist assessment to see what else 'adaptive' he'll need to make life easier - I'm hoping to get a Dementia Screening person in at the same time so he doesn't twig on.  There will be plenty of home-made food in his freezer, and he WILL eat it - another issue caused by poor memory and chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (too tired and breathless to eat) - as he hasn't got to walk far or use stairs to get to the kitchen any more.  I will also be taking care of the laundry, making sure the pots are washed properly and the place is clean

Life is about to get a whole lot more busy for us.  I'm hoping we'll see an improvement in his general health or, at least, a slowing in the decline of it.

When I got home yesterday there was a letter from the local college, where I'm going to do the Level 3 AAT qualification.  Basically it was a 'you can get your course books from us on these dates, oh and by the way there was a mistake in the brochure.  Your course day is a Thursday, not a Tuesday'.  The brochure came out in June and it takes them till the beginning of September to tell us that we're coming on a different day.  It's a good job I don't have other, unavoidable, plans for Thursdays, or have childcare to sort out.  I've had issues before with this college's admin 'skills' but this is just pathetic.