Marianne Talbot I arrived as they were serving supper last night. It was a lamby-tomatoey thing, with rice. It looked delicious. So I had some. It was delicious. So I had more.
The staff love it when relatives eat with residents. They believe residents eat more. In mum's case this might be true: yesterday she ate as much as I did. Then she had peaches and cream.
It is lovely to see mum's appetite back. And with a vengeance! Over the holiday I often went in for afternoon tea: always a mug of tea, served with a delicious fattening treat. Last time it was apple strudel, the time before a lighter-than-air raspberry sponge with cream.
As a coeliac mum can't eat such things (I can and do). But she doesn’t miss out. Once last week, for example, she had three humungous slices of gluten-free chocolate and date cake. She ate the lot. Made short work of it too. She also made short work of her tea. Then she asked for another.
When mum lived with me I worried about how little she drank. She'd have half a cup of coffee with breakfast, a cup of tea in the afternoon, and maybe one glass of water. She'd gracefully accept other drinks, but invariably left them.
But now! When I am helping her with supper I am constantly pouring out yet another drink for her. Last night she had four glasses of ribena, smacking her lips over each, saying: 'this is nectar, simply nectar!' Mum always says this when she likes a drink, she's nothing if not appreciative.
Could it be that the temperature is so high in the home? Perhaps, but it is not noticeably higher than I used to keep the house (the Age Concern recommended 21).
But one thing puzzles me. Mum is not putting on weight. Her legs are still little more than sticks, and her once magnificent bosom is now hardly noticeable (partly because they've obviously given up on bras, so her bosom is no longer where it used to be!).
Perhaps mum only eats a lot when I am there? If so my guess would be that this is because I cut things up for her.
I recently went in to find her - and others - forlornly spearing some thick slices of beef. No way could they have eaten these unless they were cut into manageable pieces. The carers, always fewer on a Sunday, were busy feeding those who need feeding. Might mum and the others have ended up eating nothing at all had I not arrived?
Hmm. Worrying isn't it? I have had a word with the director of the home, and she has promised to look into it.