I visit because I like him, but as the weeks go by, I’m afraid I’ve also developed a grim curiosity about what it’s like to be in your nineties. But I’m obsessed, like a tourist taking notes on some awful country they must one day go to.
Meals-on-wheels, crumbling knees, hernias, cannulas, the way a day dissolves into unintended naps… The notion I struggle most with is that Richard, though partially sighted and mostly immobile, is one of the very luckiest of old people.
We provide high quality locum staff for short or long term cover.
If you’re on a low income you could get help towards the costs of arranging a funeral.
Expert after expert, government after government, stresses the vital importance of keeping the elderly in their houses.
It spares hospitals, saves money and more importantly it allows them — us — some dignity in our dotage, so they say. but feeling dignified depends on being treated with dignity.
He’s made it to nearly 100 in decent nick: not blown up, run over or demented.
He’s looked after, not in some woebegone home but in his own flat, and isn’t that the great ideal?