I’m sitting playing Scrabble with two relatives of another resident in the communal lounge/diner, wondering if the presence of a Scrabble board here is therapeutic or a cruel joke, given the level of Aphasia in this room.
The staff member is having trouble getting Mum to the table for her meal. The food keeps going back in the oven because Mum has wandered off down the corridor to her room. She’ll go and fetch her but the moment she turns her back to plate the meal, Mum has risen because she’s just remembered something or she needs the toilet. For someone who has such trouble walking, Mum certainly puts in some good mileage.
Eventually, she is sitting and eating.
“I must show you the pool,” she says to me, standing up suddenly.
“Pool? I didn’t think this place had a swimming pool.”
“Oh yes, a large one. It’s over that way. They use a chair to lift you in and…”
Mum’s talking about the bath.