"My father's care"

My father had the misfortune of being here for a few months before passing away.

Before he became unwell he was a proud man who was always careful with his appearance. While at the nursing home he was often unshaved, often wearing other people's clothes. One day my mother arrived to find him in the day room wearing someone else's pyjama top, no singlet or anything else underneath and only a few buttons done up. He was freezing to touch. When his clothes were packed up and returned to us they included a pair of tracksuit pants, a pair of underpants and two pyjama tops that did not belong to him.

Once when I was there at afternoon tea time, the woman serving the teas made a fuss about how she had not worked for a few days and she could not remember who had what. She wasn't directing this to me so I did not respond. She then put a cup of white tea on my father's table. I told her that he drank black tea and she said he had white yesterday. I said that is because you gave it to him. My father at this time of his life did not speak much, but in case his taste in tea changed and in case he might answer I asked him whether he wanted black or white tea. He answered very emphatically, I want black tea. I asked the girl if she had a list (I know that we filled out forms about his likes when he entered) and she said yes they are around somewhere I'll see if I can find them. Despite all of this, various members of my family all reported arriving to see a half a cup of white tea on his table or him being delivered a cup of white tea.

This pales in comparison with the day before he died when my mother said that he seemed seriously unwell. A doctor was called but did not arrive, my mother asked several times what was happening and then called me and asked me to call the doctor. I could not get on to the doctor and rang the manager at the nursing home who told me he was fine, they were able to manage him and the doctor would see him in the morning. Unfortunately, he died in pain before the doctor arrived.