Nurse Rosenberg

Setenil de las Bodegas, Spain, November 2016

For the last few days Sister D and I have been standing in for mum at the parental manse, while she goes off to visit her brother in Seattle and then, of all places, Las Vegas. Lola II has gone with her, while Sister D and I have a full list of instructions that is seven pages long. So far, nobody has been murdered.

The campaign started when I arrived the night before the flight to find that mum needed help packing while dad reported a horrible dream about the plane being shot down by the King of Jordan and everyone dying in the resulting explosion. Over the next 12 hours the dream acquired the status of a premonition, and we all regularly had to withstand dad's heartfelt pleas for mum and Lola II to change their flight plans.

On the day of the flight I accompanied mum to the airport, which was not without its own stresses as we could find absolutely nowhere to park at the tube station and we were delayed by about 20 minutes while I drove about looking for a space. The train we boarded then changed its destination half way, but all's well that ends well and we got there in three hours. I returned by exactly the same route in less than two hours. Mum and Lola II were delayed three hours on the tarmac as someone on the plane was ill, but no mid-air explosions ensued. Since dad's premonition was been revealed to be false, he declared that he will no longer believe or tell us about any of his dreams. This resolution lasted less than 24 hours.

My responsibilities are few - I have to admit the carers in the morning and evening, admit the cleaner and do the laundry on Friday, supply meals and medications, and deal with any parental emergencies that arise. No emergencies have arisen, thank goodness, because I am supremely confident of my skills in opening the front door, the pill box and the fridge and working the cooker and microwave, but much less confident about dealing with emergencies. The main change I have instituted is to force dad to make his own breakfast, which he is perfectly able to do.

I also have a list of things mum would quite like done before she gets back, and a list of boring jobs that I would quite like to do before they get back (you know - insurance renewals, utility contracts, reviewing all the fancy multimedia hardware that Mr MHX specified last weekend) and altogether there isn't as much free time as I had anticipated. I have brought many toys, games, books and DVDs, and the fabric for the dress I promised Lola II about two years ago. When I spread it out on the table ready to go I discovered that and not enough had been supplied. I really should have checked at the time, but it's obviously much too late now to make a fuss. It will make a lovely top.

So I have spray painted the copper pipes to the new boiler in the kitchen, gone for a run (the first for at least a year), met two different school friends for coffee and hosted Sunday lunch with Sister D and Cousin Y. I had a look at the fan heater that had stopped working, squeezed into the cupboard under the stairs to have check the fuse box and discovered it was the old type and entirely unlabelled. So I went back to the fan heater to turn it on so I could tell from the light whether the power was off, and it spontaneously came back to life. Result. Next day the carer said yes, it works intermittently, so no result after all.