By Richard Otterwell
He had been thinking hard about the nurse’s question when the alarm on his mobile phone reminded him that it was time to take one of the five pills he ingested daily to keep himself alive. She had asked him what day it was, using his first name in that condescending manner that only nurses have. A question he could not answer even though he knew that failure may condemn him to life in a care home. He took the test tube of pills from his trouser pocket, noticing the small ‘w’ on the lid. “It’s Wednesday,” he said smiling inwardly.
I love how you slide the feeling of joy and relief into the gentleman’s thoughts. I felt relieved for him too!
Thank you – much appreciated. I am chuffed to bits that people are reading my stuff.
Since I’ve been retired, knowing what day of the week it is has become a challenge, because it no longer matters. A friend of mine, still working, would call some days just to announce teasingly: “Today is Friday, the weekend is here.” For me, every day is now a weekend. It’s a pointless question.
Since the start of the pandemic, I even struggle with the year!
Great ending. I like the fact that I so want it to have been Wednesday but fear that the w is just the manufacturer’s initial.
Thank you – thats a twist I hadn’t thought of but, just to put your mind at rest, he writes the lid labels himself!
This really hits home with older people I know struggling with their meds. I’m not ‘THAT’ old but even I this past year having worked remotely at home full-time struggle to remember what day it is and did I take that one pill I need to that morning.
Thank you – much appreciated.