Bob wakes up at 8am today. His head has moved from his pillow to mine. How did that happen? I always put his head squarely in the middle of his pillow so how does he move to mine? He tries to get as near to me as he can because he needs the warmth and reassurance of my skin on his, even my breath when I breathe. It is a bit claustrophobic but I understand.
‘Are you Gary?’ he asks
‘I hope not,’ I answer
‘I’m Chris. ‘
‘Yes, you’re Chris, my number one’
‘I’m your wife. We’ve been together forty years’
‘I love you.’
This will be the start of 50 ‘I love yous’ throughout the day. Then it’s straight into the routine- helping him out of bed and toileting him, then the bath.

‘I’m not going in there.’
‘You are, but I will help you. I’m making it bubbly and warm ,and you’ve got your magic mat in, so you won’t slip.’
‘I’m not going in there!’
‘But I want to make you look lovely and smart, and make your lovely silver hair shine with my special shampoo.‘
He considers for a moment. ‘How do I get in? I’m going to fall.’
‘No, you’re not, because I’ve got you.’
‘Okay,’ he relents. ‘Just for you.’

I place Bob’s hand in the sink tell him to lift his leg up and guide it into the bath water. I tell him to hold onto the bath handle with his other hand and he cautiously and shakily lifts his other leg in. He won’t sit down though, so the bath is not happening.
‘Sit down , I will help you.’ I hook my arm under his arm pit and guide him downwards.
He sits.

‘I’m all wet now!’
‘Yes, well you are getting washed.’
Then onto  the trauma of the wash and the hair washing. I’m as quick as I can be because Bob wants to get out as soon as he gets in. I guide him out and dry him. He has no idea how to help. His limbs are heavy and leaden. I have to push his arms into the sleeves and lift his legs into jeans and shoes. All clean and fresh.

Next is the pills and shave. I’m knackered already and it’s only 8.45am.
First go with the pills and he spits them out. I pick them up and we have another go. ‘All swigged down.‘

Now the shave. But Bob is having none of it.
‘No, no no,’ he says
‘I’ll be quick. ‘
‘No. I hate it!’
‘Don’t be cross,’  I say and give him a kiss.
He melts. ‘Okay, just for you.’
So I get my way and he has his wet shave. I’m getting better at it, and quicker.

My lovely handsome husband. Aftershave Jo Malone, only the best!