Shortly after booking a train ticket from London to West Yorkshire to accompany my mum to the doctor, I received a letter explaining that due to Covid-19 the appointment would now take place over the phone. Having booked the time off work, I decided to visit her anyway – despite the fact she and my dad, who separated 50 years ago, both still live in a small town surrounded by Covid-19 hotspots. Indeed, it was possible my visit would infringe the latest lockdown regulations, as well as putting my parents at risk. It’s a chance I decided to take.
A few days later I’m sitting in the pub with my mum, who has Alzheimer’s, my pulmonary disease-afflicted dad, developing vascular dementia, and my dad’s wife, Jean, whose hearing is dodgy because there are no slots available at the clinic to have her ears syringed. I am reminded of the old joke about three old people: ‘It’s windy, isn’t it?’ says the first.
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