Accidents?

 

Flo was awkward.  We knew before we booked her for the holiday that she would cause trouble, else why would none of her family have anything to do with her?  Still, the holiday had always consisted of a large group of challenges, and why should Flo prove more exacting than dozens of others?

 

It was the first night that she presented the first problem.  She did not want to go to bed.  “Why not?”, we asked.  No particular reason; she wasn’t tired; we were; she wasn’t sure about the bed; she would just as soon sit up all night.  We felt we could not agree to that, so we kept on calling into her chalet to see how she was getting on; whether she was undressed and whether we could help.  At about 11.15 pm we were cheered to call and find her dressed in a voluminous winceyette nightdress and thankfully helped her into her bed, tucked her cosily in and left her.  At 7.15 am next morning, pushing open her chalet door with a cup of tea for her, a pungent pong assailed my nose.  The two nursing staff were busy each side of her bed, stripping off layers of clothes, washing Flo almost all over, cleaning and powdering her.  Flo had had an ‘accident’.  The preceding evening she had decided that she needed a good clear out and had dosed herself with cascara.  The resulting mess would have been bad enough but had been complicated because Flo had omitted to undress herself before donning her large nightie.  It had all been a deliberate and successful deception.  So not only did the sheets, pillowcases, counterpane and nightie need washing but so did Flo’s vest, slip, bloomers and stockings.  This would have constituted little more than the usual laundry task for the day, but Flo’s corsets took three days to dry.  It was Wednesday before she could keep her stockings up properly.

 

The most amazing aspect of the whole incident was the tolerance and good tamper of the caring staff.  Not only did they strip off all the contaminated clothes, scrub them all in the bath and then roll them carefully so that they could be pushed straight into the washing machine but they conversed sympathetically with Flo all the time.  They dressed her in whatever spare clothing they could find in her case and searched for suitable articles in the stock of spare clothing we had brought with us, making sure that it was to Flo’s liking before putting it on her.  Having made her clean and wholesome again, they set to work on the floor in the bedroom and bathroom, and scrubbed out the bath.  Not once did they remind Flo about the strict instructions given to each guest against ‘dosing’ themselves.  After completing the job to their satisfaction, they left Flo feeling as though she had done them a favour.

 

As can be imagined, one of the amenities which have to be discovered is adequate laundry facilities.  It is a weakness among people who have had strokes that the bladder muscles tend to become unreliable.  Since it is accepted that no disability ought to debar anyone from accompanying the party for a holiday away from home, whether that happens to be an ordinary private residence, an Old People’s Home or the geriatric ward of a hospital, we have to ensure that keeping everyone in clean dry clothes is maintained.  However, sometimes it becomes apparent that this task is made more difficult, not because of a genuine weakness but because of carelessness, or laziness.

 

Edward was typical of this psychology.  His bed was always dry and clean so it was obvious that incontinence was not his problem.  Yet, on two consecutive mornings, he was discovered walking around in ‘dirty’ trousers.  The first time he was undressed, bathed and dressed again with no comment.  It was indicative that his daughter had packed three pairs of trousers in with his spare clothes and about six pairs of pants.  She had guessed what we might be expected to discover.  We were determined that this possible avoidable work should be stopped by some means.  Following the second ‘accident’, we treated Edward to a lecture.  “You will get yourself to the loo, or else - - “.  Edward blinked and made no answer.  To make sure, the lecture continued.  “This is the second time you have dirtied your trousers”.  Edward was immediately alert.  He raised his hand with the forefinger pointing up towards the ceiling.  “Once”, he contradicted.  We thrust up two fingers.  “Twice”, we argued.  Edward’s finger pointed heavenwards again.  “Once”.  “No, twice”.  “Once “.  “Twice yesterday and today”.  “Once”.  The argument threatened to engulf the morning, so we hit on an indisputable fragment of evidence.  We brought back both pairs of trousers, now clean, pressed and aired.  “Are these yours?”.  “Yes”, said Edward.  We draped the trousers on the backs of two chairs and indicated plainly.  “This pair you dirtied yesterday and that pair today”.  Edward was quite adamant.  He held up his forefinger in front of our noses.  “Once”, he declared.  However, we claimed the victory.  We had no more trousers to wash for Edward for the rest of the holiday.

 

Although our holidays are our responsibility, it is not essential to have the acquiescence of the Local Authority, but it can be an asset to have their co-operation and to be able to negotiate with them form some facets of the projects.  Conversely, our activity can help in the task of the Local Authority to solve some unusual problems which come to light.

 

There were Sarah and Hubert, for instance.  Their relationship possibly started as an irregular cohabitation but that would have been some years before we knew them.  The local health people drew our attention to the plight they were in and asked what we could do to help.  The house in which they lived was rented; we never discovered whether they ever paid the rent but no other bills were ever paid.  There was no gas or electricity; his main nutriment seemed to be drink as he seldom seemed to be quite sober.  She was a tiny wispy person and possibly needed little to eat.  The house was appallingly filthy.  There was too little furniture or equipment for it to be untidy but the lavatory had long been blocked and the basin had overflowed through the open door at the top of the stairs.  The old lady, either through laziness or senility, was incontinent and had abandoned use of the facility: she had resorted to the corners of the rooms for convenience.  A plastic bucket had been placed in front of the brimming lavatory basin, and this, too, was full and overflowing.

 

The best we found we could do was to remove the pair of them and allow volunteers to have access to the house and get it into a habitable condition while they were away.  So we offered them both a holiday with us – free of charge.  This temptation was more than they could resist.  The old lady, twenty years older than her companion, emphasised that on no account could she share a room with ‘him’.  We promised her that this would be suitably arranged and on the departure day, we sent one of our craftiest drivers to collect them.  This gentleman, having been primed about his task, put them both into his car and, under some pretence, slipped to the back door and unlocked and unbolted it.  Both our passengers arrived at the Camp and after the preliminary meal, they were both bullied into a bath.  After this, they were clothed in fresh apparel and introduced to their two small chalets side by side and to their chalet companions.

 

The first night passed without incident, but Sarah began to hint that she would prefer to be in the other bed in Hubert’s chalet.  We ignored these comments.  On Monday morning, we were distributing cups of tea around our guests and found Sarah’s room in a shambles.  Her case, with all her clean fresh clothing, was emptied onto the floor.  Sarah was sitting on the bed, a picture of misery, so we stayed to help her get dressed and ready for breakfast.  Much to our astonishment, she had on most of the underclothes with which she had been supplied.  She had put on all the voluminous bloomers, one on top of the other, until she appeared to be in a cocoon.  On questioning why she thought this was necessary, she explained that it was in case she was unable to get to the lavatory in time and five or six good thick pairs of bloomers would, she hoped, be sufficient protection.  So we set to work to reassure her.  Firstly we asked for, and got, an under-bed receptacle for her.  This we placed strategically just about where her feet would land if she attempted to get out of bed in the dark.  Sarah seemed doubtful, but we reinforced our safeguard by escorting her on a last visit just prior to getting into bed ourselves at about midnight.

 

The next morning the worst had happed.  The tea was on its way when we were met by Sarah’s chalet companion.  She demanded a move away from the old lady.  On opening the door we understood why.  Sarah’s inside had responded to her unaccustomed generous diet and she had performed just inside the door.  Her receptacle, intended for such a use, was clean and unsullied under the bed where it had been left.  Leaving the cups of tea to be given out by others, we set to work.  Hubert, hearing the commotion, arrived at the door.  “Can I do anything?”, he enquired.  We put him to work.  We told him where to find a bucket and some old newspapers and set him off to collect his equipment.  Meanwhile, we had to divest Sarah of her half-a-dozen pairs of bloomers, all soaked through and stand the old lady on an old piece of towelling.  We washed her lower parts and down her legs, meanwhile tearing her off a verbal strip about crass carelessness.  We were interrupted by the entrance of Hubert with his bucket and pile of newspapers.  He was asked to collect the pile of excrement from inside the door in his newspaper and take it to the boiler house two doors away.  He made an excellent job of cleaning the floor and was just about to dispose of the contents of the bucket when his attention was drawn to another small pile just under the wash basin in the further corner.  This was too much for his credulity.  He put his bucket down onto the floor, surveyed his half-naked companion with some exasperation, and queried.  “How on earth, Sarey, did you mange to get your arse right over there?”.

 

After that, we put the two of them together in one chalet.  With precise instructions to Hubert, we avoided too much work in the laundry.  On no account was Sarah to be allowed to put on her clothes before she got up in the morning.  If she had an accident in bed, he need not worry.  We had a good thick plastic sheet under her cotton sheet.  If she wetted her bed, she could, as was her usual practice, lie in it till morning.  If she made a mess on the floor, he was to leave it till the morning when he could, if he wanted to be useful, help us to clear it up.

 

The cupboard beside the fireplace had been stacked with food of all kinds.  It is as well that gratitude is regarded as a bonus in some instances because we did not get any on this occasion.  “What”, we were asked severely, “had we done with their lovely soft feather bed?  How did we think they would be able to sleep properly on that horrible hard thing we had left on their bed?”.

 

There was a tall pile of bonfire ash in the back garden but we dare not tell them that part of that was their precious feather mattress.

 

It was only at the usual ‘inquest’ session that we realised that Hubert had not had a single drink all the week he spent with us, even when he had been offered one as a small recompense for his help in looking after his unwholesome old companion.