Edna

Care

Maintaining someone's health and wellbeing, no matter the cost. This may be in the form of a care home. Here they are able to socialise, and enjoy life, without worrying about their ailments. They can be NHS run or private. Both offer different kinds of care and people should investigate thoroughly before sending loved ones to the first home they find. It should be something that is agreed upon for the wellbeing of both the ill person and their support network.

I went to see Nenna in the care home one summer. I was nervous. I expected it to be a clinical feeling place. Sterile and lacking in life. The drive was nice and we rounded the corner to see the large house and I was pleasantly surprised. It was the height of summer and the garden was in full bloom. The gardener was on his hands and knees with his gloves on, digging room for the newest additions to the flower bed. He waved as we drove past and parked round the back of the house.

My Nana and Mum both talked about Nenna as if she wouldn't remember anything when we went in, as if she would have lost her mind already. But I held out hope. And I refused to be sad in front of her. I'd read that somewhere; being sad in front of someone who's ill doesn't help.

The house was old and had a clean smell but the dark wood and carpet made it seem less clinical. We walked up the stairs and signed in where a nurse met us, leading us around, through the winding corridors to Nenna's room. She sat watching Bargain Hunt with a cup of tea in her lap. As she lifted it to her lips I saw her hand shaking and the liquid started to jostle against the sides. The nurse hurried to her side and helped to steady the mug before taking it from her.

"Edna," she said, waiting for the elderly woman's eyes to come to focus on her. "Your family are here."

It took Nenna a moment to notice we were all there, but when she did her smile grew, and we rushed to say our hellos. I took a seat on the bed and noticed it's lumpy texture, a worry building in my stomach that maybe this was the sort of place I wanted to protect her from. But it was far from that.

"Y... You know that... that down... downstairs they... they have a crèche."

I had to really force myself to pay attention, my eyes becoming distracted by the shaking of her legs or her hand. Her eyes too wandered over to the TV. But she was still mid-sentence and Nana had to get her back on task.

"So the crèche?"

"Yeah... They bring... They bring the children in... in to see us... and they're so fun" Nenna smiled, "and we... we do music... and... and... and movie nights."