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I rang Mum a couple of days ago to let her know that I was coming down again this week (on Thursday). Naturally, she rang me yesterday and this morning under the impression that I was about to arrive. This morning's call was a request to bring toilet roll with me. How she thought I would arrive in time when she was talking to me on my home phone is beyond me.

She had been hobbling pretty badly when I was down there just over a week ago. It turns out that her Chiropodist saw her yesterday and announced that she had an infection in her foot which required the Doctor to come out. She was told to stay in her flat until the visit, so that's why she was calling me about the toilet paper.

I called D, the Warden, to ask if he could help, but he told me that Mum has been taking toilet rolls from the guest toilet in the block for months now. As she never remembers to replace them, he was unwilling to facilitate her any further. I'll have to buy a massive quantity when I'm down with her. I'm getting the impression that Mum has been leaning a little too hard on those around her.

We got to talking about Mum's ability to feed herself. We're in agreement that she's not managing. I raised the idea of arranging meals-on-wheels for her, but D informed me that (these days) this is something you need a GP referral for, and even then this is only offered on a temporary basis to those who have been recently discharged from hospital. Apparently the frozen meals service I've already instituted is meant to fill in, but I know that the cooking instructions are beyond Mum.

It looks like Mum needs to go into a Care Home sooner rather than later.