This week’s Tuesday included a surprisingly fantabulous trip to a hospital with Dad.

It was fantabulous on a number of different levels:

1. Dad’s breathing is better than it has been in ages and he was able to chat.  I heard stories I’d never heard (how much he hated being in the cadets and how he was the only one in his group to fail at his soldier-ing test because he refused to react when told there was a sniper ahead as ‘it was just silly – clearly there wasn’t.’ 😂). It did also mean he had the breath to be a terrible passenger and remind me of the speed limit every couple of miles…
2. We went The Pretty Way.  Dad avoids motorways at all costs and had been going The Pretty Way for years to visit friends and for hospital visits (Mum went a lot with her five different cancers).  It was indeed pretty and he know a surprising amount of local history that – thanks to the ability to breathe and talk – he passed on – between speed warnings and soldier stories.
3. It turns out that I have been doing hospital visits all wrong.  Before we left Dad handed me hot cross buns to butter and a box of Tunnocks tea cakes.  We ate them in the waiting room (Not the teacakes – Dad said he gets the marshmallow round his mouth and wanted to wait until after his appointment incase he got in a mess.).  So it turns out that to make a hospital visit truly fantabulous, you have to take a picnic. 🙂

Mum, on the other hand was not as excitable this week and after rapidly finishing her coffee and plum – while I was only half way through mine and only on cake number one (they have great cakes in the special coffee area of the home.  I am attempting to somewhat justify the fees there by eating as many as I can at each visit…) sorry – while I was only half way through mine she looked at me, told me that she had ‘seen enough’ and could she go back now?  There is no filter with dementia, but at least you know where you stand 😳