Sometimes things are so awful that you just have to laugh.
Nearly three weeks ago my 94-year-old father almost lost consciousness as he came out of the bathroom. The paramedics arrived and advised an overnight stay in hospital. And so I came to be sitting with him one afternoon at the Major Emergencies ward at Broomfield hospital, Chelmsford.
They had hooked him up to a variety of stuff. Sensors across his abdomen, a blood-oxygen gauge clamped on his finger and a blood pressure device on his arm. All of which meant the poor old boy couldn’t easily wander across to take a wee in the commode. The situation required lots of explanation on my part, because he suffers from deep vascular dementia.
Each time his bladder filled, my job was to pull down his trousers and pants and give him one of the disposable urinal bottles to piss into as he lay on the bed. On one occasion, when he had finished, I took it over to the sink and emptied it. Turning round, I could only see his back. But he stirred my curiosity as he was cocking his head at differing angles, as if deliberating over some kind of choice.
“What you looking at Dad?”
In a stride it became clear. He had taken the clamp from his finger and now had it poised, jaws open, above his penis. Still cocking his head, trying to judge which part of his bell-end might best receive said clamp.
Before he could let the thing squeeze hard around the purple flesh, I snatched it away. “What the hell are you doing? That goes on your finger.”
“Oh, I didn’t know.”
Back home, I told Maureen. The pair of us ended up crying so hard with laughter that it hurt. We were weeping at the bit where he was puzzling over the best angle to clamp it on.
Hearing the story, a couple of friends suggested we could buy him some clothes pegs for his birthday. Or maybe attach a set of jump leads that start flat car batteries. Another recommended a good S&M club.
The line between tragedy and comedy can be so thin.
The Biscuit Factory 
Sounds like a Billy Connolly stage event, humour in tragedy, sweetness in sorry, I often wonder what events await.
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There’s no telling what’s ahead Ed. Seize the day, if you can.
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Bloody hell 🤣🤣 that made me laugh out mate. Thank Christ he didn’t succeed.
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I know. There really would have been a major emergency!
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Definitely would. How’s things in general Kev.
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Every day is different John. Sometimes I’m not sure if we can carry on living such a constricted life where we have to stay in ceaseless, watchful proximity to someone whose marbles are mainly gone. It’s not unusual for Maureen or me to say: ‘I can’t take much more of this’. Other days go by smoothly, and life is semi-normal. At least the Hammers are repeating last year’s good showing!
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Oh my, that would’ve smarted! 😀 … there’s nothing a good tears-to-the-eyes belly laugh to help restore one’s internal compasses. 🙂
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Yes, uncontrollable laughter wipes clean the smeared slate. 🤣🤣
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Brilliant observational writing, and I agree with the comment about Billy Connolly. You should blog more about this if you have the time. Deserves a book.
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Having the time is quite a struggle Mark. I’m not complaining. One day, fairly soon, I will have the time again. Hope you’re still enjoying your work in the community.
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I don’t work in the community now. I’m writing stories for a book company and it’s wonderful. Best job of my life.
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Have you told me that before Mark, or blogged about it? If so, please excuse my dodgy memory. Really glad you’ve come through your time of tribulation. Is there anywhere that I can read your stories?
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My stars, thin line indeed between revolting and jolting…caring and (internal) jeering, between endurance and conformance…and ever lessening loops of lucidity. Fondly, Jo
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Lucidity pops up in Dad at odd and unexpected times Jo. He has a deep interest in words and language, but his memory is shot through. Painful to watch such deterioration, and his irregular glimpses of his plight.
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That telling is the epitome of bittersweet. My heart contracted while I laughed. Your love shines from you all. He must see it, sense it, feel it constantly. 🙂
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Honestly Stace, I don’t know what he thinks. He is perpetually confused. He can switch from deep gratitude to arrogance (a strong past trait) in a minute. We’re just looking after him as he heads towards the exits.
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Well, it’s all you can do, and more than so many people get on their final stretch. Hang in, Kev.
🙂 🙂 🙂
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Makes me squirm just reading the story!
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Hi Greg, I’m just finishing a Covid blog. I’ve inserted the line…”Western Australia, for example, has hosted around 300,000 positive tests, but just 96 Covid-linked deaths.”
Do I have that correct?
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Hi Kev, the current total is 148, according to this site.
https://covidlive.com.au/report/daily-deaths/wa
That’s 148 across two years. Not exactly mass graves in every public park stuff, is it?
You’ll find more stats here.
https://covidlive.com.au/wa
Thanks for the interest. I look forward to reading your article.
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Brilliant. Cheers Greg
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Do you think Dad’s innovative masochism might catch on in the S&M set?
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