Living in Boring Times!

Living in Boring Times!

Since we got back home from Brisbane - (over six weeks ago now; my, how time does fly!) - I've been gradually catching up with everything I left behind when Wendy and I flew out to see Uncle John. This evening, I have actually finished ironing everything in sight (which is a new take on the old military instruction: "If it moves, salute it; if it doesn't, paint it." I don't paint, I iron it! ) and it's a very satisfying feeling to know all Mum's clothes are dried, pressed and aired, and ready to wear. What I must not do now, is become complacent, and rest on my laurels when, on the morrow, the next load of washing comes out of the machine; the moment everything is dry, I shall get on with ironing it, and maintain the momentum.

Apart from a few episodes, Mum has on the whole been very co-operative. Today was a lovely day, because this morning, at 9.30 UK time, I rang the Nursing Home in Jindalee, where Uncle John is being very well looked after. A lovely nurse took a phone with a loudspeaker button to Uncle John, and he could hear me very clearly; Mum was also up and dressed, and sitting in her chair, so she was able to talk to Uncle John as well.

"Hello, Johnny-Boy!" This is her usual greeting.

"Oh, hello Phyllis!" Uncle John came back.

"I'm going to have my breakfast," said Mum.

Uncle John knows Mum so well: "I know what you're having!" he said, "you're having cornflakes, aren't you?"

"I am!" Mum confirmed.

It is just so good to have a normal, simple conversation for a few minutes; quiet, boring times are far nicer and easier to live through, than so-called "interesting" times.

Mum has still not really taken in how ill Uncle John is, although she does have flashes of understanding; she is still talking about going out to Australia, and seeing him.

A couple of days ago, Mum announced:

"The Prince is coming to visit us; and when we go to Australia, the Prime Minister is coming round to see us!"

Then she added, "I've got a very good job, now! They've moved me to another board room."

A little pause, then: "But it's very hard."

Family: "But I'm sure you're very good at it."

Mum: "I like it, because I can clean my teeth better!"

There are occasions now where she asks me to tell her again, just what is the matter with Uncle John? and I explain gently, he is very ill, but because he is being looked after extremely well, he's doing much better than anyone thought he would. Being transferred from a palliative care ward in a hospital to a nursing home, is definitely a step up!

"Oh, so he's getting better, then?"

As no-one can say with certainty how long anyone will live for, I agree with her, and leave it at that.