Anna has just seen the morning carer arrive and given her a smile!
Yesterday was a very good day. The system worked well. Anna was more accepting of the carer, her second day in, and then we seemed to get on well all day.
It is worth remembering this, after other days when I think there is nothing to be done and the situation is hopeless – like a cricket captain in the field, when all the catches are being dropped and the there seems to be no way of winning. (But England were winning the test match.)
We had an assessment visit from the social worker, Liz, and that was a bonus. Liz was good at what the best social workers are able to do, relating to Anna – like Andrew and Julian, old social work and psychotherapy colleagues of Anna, I found myself ‘thinking about a time when it seemed possible to consider social work’s unique position amongst the caring professions, on the boundary between the social and the personal.’ (Cooper and Lousada, Borderline Welfare, p. 5) So Anna responded to her, wanted to talk, was keen to negotiate more visits. Liz remembered that Anna had been at school with Virginia Wade. Someone who can keep alive a memory on Anna’s behalf is always a friend. It seemed that she was from that benign world that Anna is afraid of losing.
Earlier we had a visit from an old friend I had not seen for thirty years. For a time Anna was out of the picture and became frustrated. Then we showed her a photograph where she was at the centre of the picture and equilibrium was restored.
And another bonus, another professional visit, Lynn, who Anna likes to see – how do you describe what an occupational therapist does? Like a social worker, only more hands on? We talked about special cutlery and cups and non-slip mats and whether Anna might have her breakfast before coming down stairs. (My first wife was an occupational therapist. She used to help people manage the fact that they heard voices.)
Anna tried to explain – more with gestures than words - about a man she did not like. ‘Tim?’ asked Lynn helpfully. But she was talking about the Middle East. She had seen the images of bombing and children on the television. It’s like faces. At times it seems she recognises nothing, but then she does, clearly.
I gave her a drink. She was very thirsty.
‘But it doesn’t change.’
She has to live with that.