This afternoon I accompanied my mum to her twice-yearly visit to the memory clinic.
The poor love is still preoccupied by her driving embargo, and indeed an appeals form was sent to her while we were away in Budapest. Despite her promising to wait for me to return before completing the paperwork, she did just that and popped in the post straight way. I find it hard to believe she filled the forms in perfectly (which of course they must be) and certainly she did not include a current photo which they asked for, on the grounds that "they've already got one". Give me strength!
Her performance at the clinic was good, although her subtracting serial sevens from one hundred was poor, but then a lot of people have lousy mental arithmetic. In the end her "mini-mental" score was 28 out of a possible 30, which sounds like there isn't a lot wrong with her, but this speaks more to the inadequacy of the test than anything else.
Humourous note: on Sunday she asked us to bring her a copy of the last NoW, having cottoned to the fact that it was closing down. On looking at the many sample headlines from their illustrious past, she saw one which ran:
"JACKO DEAD"
"Jacko dead?" she cried, incredulous.
.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment