The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

On Tuesday I'd been sent an email saying, 'he is on WARD 41 now and they said he is ok a little confused. They said they are putting things in place for his STEP DOWN whatever that means. They were really nice so give them a ring.'
Eventually I got it sussed out. He was on ward 34 and I'd phoned, getting through to someone helpful quite easily enough.
I'd then contacted my g.p.'s surgery and passed on my information, towards the reception staff, who'd been helping of late. She had then explained how her email was full and that suddenly they'd gone out, with several of them late. Like mine...
Then I began hiding from the world Wednesday: the fact that it was raining helped.
That said, I'd been waiting on the phone, again: this time it'd been me who had been making the call: having sussed that the best time to phone to ask about dad is four o'clock.
Needless to say, I got distracted and, when I looked up it was five o'clock.
Youtube had got me again, there's just so much going on, to look at.
I figure if you look at the world and the mess we're in now, much of it is messaging: it's almost as simple as that - the sheeple want to believe in something.
For many, the message {sic: trump et al} is their new god.
I went to see dad Friday, with Tony driving and lucie holding my hand.
As the gum is less tender I wore my lower set, so he could understand me. Thankfully, he had been more communicative than on tuesday evening.
I got to meet the staff caring for him and met a doctor who answered questions, as I cried and talked in third person. Thats the point at which lucie had held my hand, literally.
I do wish there was more I could for him and, am thankful for tony and lucie.
Yet, it had been difficult to associate the man in the bed before me with the family man who had adopted me and saw me through my scrapes and bruises.
We next saw him on am evening and Dad had been more agitated than I'd seen in awhile. More an exagerated version of his obsessive self, when that kicks in.
I had rung the ward manager to ask about the wallet I recalled dropping off for Dad and she'd said "I'm glad you rang." Time to worry.
She had then gone further, by explaining they had instituted a doller order, for my Dad: deprivation of liberty. I'd had to google that one and wasn't too happy with the results.
So, I drank Thursday night purposefully, feeling terrified of Dad bein trapped and realising there's so much to learn, fast.
Yet, I'd slept well and woken early, listening to the rustling of the hedge in the wind, reminding me it needed to be trimmed.
Sunday I'd woken after a night of strange dreams, that thankfully I do not recall. At one point in the morning I lit a smoke, recalling how hard my Father had found it to flick the wheel of a throwaway lighter, like the one I'd been using. I weeded in the afternoon, deep in thought. Then I'd turned to the laptop to search the net again, for further information about 'Deprivation Of Liberty.'
I'd forgotten it was part of the jubilee bank holiday when my friend called roundwent for an ice-cream [and beer] down at eastham ferry,with tony and his mum [she has dementia]
Tony had been chuffed to see me eat [an ice-cream]
It was a break from, 'all of this' and I'm pleased to say, tony seemed to be as pleased for me as his mum.
I found a story I hadn't listened listened to properly. I felt very grateful for my friends. Indeed I'd felt very gratedful. I'd never expected to see my Dad look so frail. It made me feel my own mortality: hence having a day off on Saturday, in bed or just potterering around the home in my robe... a tad like Tony's mum I guess.
Then on Jubilee weekend I phoned through to the ward again and again. Then finally I had got through, to find that Dad had fallen, again. Once again I'd felt ovewhelmed by the events of the day, knowing that Monday would bring yet another adventure, without leaving the house. The washing machine had died and, after a panicky phonecall, I'd arranged for an engineer to call on the Monday.
The drum was dead, I'd been assured; the consequence being the purchase of a new machine. It had been the most I've spent, thankful Dad put the money aside for whitegoods: I just wish he'd signed the extended guarentee...
As it happens, I'd balked somewhat on using the machine for almost a week, as I'm wary of using anything new and, I've been that way since way back when.
Eventually I'd used it, on the wrong setting needless to say: and, it had taken well over an hour and a half, which had been twice the time it should have taken.
Dad used to say 'this place is getting too big for us.'
I'd been gardening on a Sunny Sunday and coz I'd done little around the place, since Dad went into hospital.
At the end of the afternoon I had to admit to the truth of that statement: both my knees were screaming with agony, as I had sat to type.
I'd awoken at 4:45 wondering how I'd lost 12 hrs. I hadn't.
I panicked thinking I was late to be ready for Lucie, who'd be taking me to see dad, after picking me up after work to visit him.
I looked at the the world thru the gates, after getting dressed. it was light, bright but blinds and curtains were drawn.
then... the lightbulb went off. Needless to say, I'd gone back to bed and, woken fluffy-headed.
I had got somehat depressed at age eleven with an exam that that reeled my mind, the eleven plus. . I got there later and stayed there awhile. At thirty six I'd done better.
Then I'd got off the meds in my twenties, that was harsh.
My father's end might drive me over the edge. I had mentioned that to an authority figure the other day and, nearly ended up in a psyche ward.
All I'd intimated was I have no purpose once alone.
And yes, I've been alone once.
I could even tell you of the very worst Christmas ever.
I had baked beans and a small jar of coffee. The fellow in the pub over the road was doing sandwiches. I'd fed well.
I learned both then and now, I don't like living on my own. I listen to every little sound in the the house, wondering about what it was I had just heard.
Then there are the days I go into panic mode, when I think I've lost either the house keys, my own keys, or my wallet. All has happened, leading me into a paroxysm of sheer panic, each time.
All of that said, although I've felt disappointed by my remaining family, I do have Lucie and Tony's support who have been far more helpful than any of them.
Thanks to Tony and Lucie I'v been able to visit Dad almost every Friday for several months, having had a definite lack of communication with the hosptial for months prior.
And I have purchased enough Doctor Who related audio's to last me well into 2023 and somedays, the distraction they provide is almost enough, for awhile.
Saying that, two of my favourite Doctor Who related actors died recently, David Warner and Bernard Cribbins. Both actors were people I've grown up with and in truth, will be missed by many.

No segue here. But I went for an item on my personal bucket list, a quarter pouder with cheese, at a MacDonalds 'restaurant'. In truth it had been as expected; puzzling and very american. That said, I'd enjoyed my burger, although there had been way too many chips provided for me. Yet, that's a story to be continued. On my way home we'd called in on the Co-Op, to see if they had any of the cheese n onion spread dash dip, I enjoy with every meal I do eat. It's mayonaisse based and, I didn't think I liked anything with mayonaisse in it, but this stuff I love. Anyway, all of that said, the Co-Op didn't have the cheese n onion spread, although my own fridge had some. But and there's often one of those, a suggestion and another, led me to buying a tub of 'coronation chicken', another first to my taste buds; that's to be eaten with leftover and oven-warmed chips: [after cleaning my teeth thoroughly, that is].