It is 7:20 a.m. on a snowy February morning and I am driving to the 'Milton Ford' nursing home. I have a date with Margey the chef - we are to provide breakfast for approximately 60 elderly or unwell residents and as I turn into Milton Road I see the huddled figure of Kara speed-walking towards the home. There is still a half mile to walk, so I pull over and open the door.
"On earlies then, Kara?"
"Should be - I'm late."
"Oversleep?"
"Never got to bed - 'Bad Boys II' was on."
"How long is 'Bad Boys II'?"
"About the same as 'Bad Boys' - that was on as well."
"Still can't work out how you never got to bed."
"Aw, we watched 'Bad Boys' and taped it, then watched 'Bad Boys II' and taped that an'all. Then we decided to watch 'Bad Boys' again which got us in the mood for 'Bad Boys II' again. I would have got in for 6:30 but I had to see the end."
"Again."
"Again."
"I remember being as young as you Kara but I used to sleep, I'm sure of it."
"Waste of time. Who's on with you?"
"I got Margey."
"Miserable bitch."
We are unable to go in the front door to the home because an ambulance is backed up to the door and blocking it. We can tell by the line of staff and what are presumably relatives, that this is not an emergency. If someone is injured or has a cardiac arrest there is the organised panic to get them treated. When someone dies all is calm - the relatives gather, nurses pay their last respects, everything stops as the body is removed, there are a few minutes of contemplation, some tears perhaps and life goes on.
"Who was it?"
"Miss Clare."
"We hardly got time to know her, only arrived a week ago."
"She had cancer and knew she didn't have long. Didn't want to eat, didn't want to see anyone..."
"Margey's going to be pissed off, late breakfast and no fag break. T-hee."
Sure enough Margey, who is a grumpy cow during orgasm, is even worse this morning. Mr Haynes has been put on an all-liquidised diet adding an extra layer to every meal, and poached eggs are the choice du jour. The residents are given a menu which they mark. If a relative visits every day, this is easy as they can make sure their loved one is getting variety and their favourites. Some will do a week or a fortnight in advance if they can't visit often, some will be filled in by a nurse. I have to say Margey does a good spread, albeit reluctantly.
At 10:30 the morning tea trolley is ready with hot milk, coffee, biscuits ('Rich Tea' for diabetics, the odd chocolate selection for others) and today I'll have to do the round. In the North Wing 'The Major' is out in the corridor. Wearing his medals but no trousers, he is banging the hell on Mrs. Partland's door. Mrs. Partland can be heard shouting "Bugger off!" by all except Major Fearnly (retired). The Major used to have that room but was evicted as it was too easy for him to escape through the larger windows and wander to 'The Recruiting Seargent' for lunch. He always remembered to put his trousers on for lunch but had no way of paying for it, so an arrangement was made - he was given a pint of 'Nelson's Revenge' and the lads would get a big net ready to see the old soldier home.
The round takes longer than usual - Mrs. Townhend's pictures were all askew again and Molly in room 8 threw her tea on the floor because she wasn't allowed a biscuit. I expect a bollocking when I get back to the kitchen, but everyone is quiet.
"There's a phone call for you, it's your dad."
"Hello dad, what's up? You know they don't like us taking calls."
"It's your mum..... she died this morning. I got up to make the tea and thought she just didn't hear me. I don't know what to do, son. Your sister will be here soon, your brother's in Germany and doesn't know yet. I need you here now."
"Okay dad, I'll be there as soon as I can - don't touch anything until the coroner's been."
"Something's wrong, son - I don't feel anything."
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