I had a lovely lunch today with my very good friend, BFG (Bazza the Friendly Geordie). Apparently, her husband, BSG (Bazza’s Shy Geordie), would have joined us but when he dropped BFG off at the restaurant, he plaintively informed her that he ‘hadn’t been asked’. Mortified, faithful followers, mortified!
However, since we touched on ‘ladies’ bits’ (just a manner of speech) during the lunch, it was probably a good thing. We also touched on feminism – in a very genteel way, of course – although I have just remembered that I forgot to tell her about the phrase that DoD (Dai of Derby) came across in a book he’s reading: ‘the insects in the room gave off a genital hum’. We still cannot work out if it was a misspelling or if this man was particularly attuned to the sexual habits of insects. Who knows? Who cares?
Anyway, as usual, I digress. The purpose of my missive to you this evening is to help you deal with the difficulties of dementia, something which is becoming a real problem in modern society as we live longer, and which I know many of you have encountered personally. BFG and BSG are currently going through some hard times with his mother, who is in a nursing home (of necessity, not choice) but I am not here to depress you – far from it!
BFG told me of many instances when she and BSG have laughed and she is happy to share such moments with others, so picture these scenes:
1. The BFG’s mother-in-law’s GP has come to see her (the MiL, not the BFG, of course!) to check her over, but MiL is being a little uncooperative, to say the least. The doctor asks if she likes singing and BSG says yes, so BFG sits holding one hand, BSG holds the other, the GP listens to her chest with his stethoscope while all three are singing ‘My Way’. Even Monty Python couldn’t better that!
2. There is a lady called Doris at the home and she likes to wear a leopardskin onesie whilst standing at the front door charging everyone 50p to come in. She also likes to tell you if you have a ‘cheap’ haircut – apparently, BFG’s hair is cheap (I very much doubt that!).
3. There s nothing that’s much more fun than a reading club (so I’ve been told), especially in a 
nursing home. BFG, BSG, MiL and Margy, another resident, were sitting enjoying some tea – MiL was shovelling down (BFG’s words) a concoction of cream cake with extra cream in which her tablets were hidden (this is a woman who used to enjoy black coffee with no sugar), while Margy was sitting reading ‘Sex in the City’, the front cover describing it as ‘Jane Austen with frilly knickers’. Margy turned to BSG, whom she thinks is the manager of the place, and said, ‘I don’t think Jane Austen wrote this.’ In the meantime, playing in the background is ‘The Banana Boat Song’. Monty Python, where are you now?
4. The inevitable sing-song – My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean, followed by ‘Billy, Don’t be a Hero’ – what a choice! It made us wonder – what will be the sing-songs of choice in, say, 30 years? Will the 80s generation be swaying along with their Zimmer frames to Duran Duran, A-Ha, Adam and the Ants, Take That? I shall be expecting Maggie May, Layla, Streets of London, maybe a little Pink Floyd to hum along to (genitally, of course!).
Sleep well, humming genitally to yourselves!