FL is convinced that he drank poison in the night, because he awoke with a terrible taste in his mouth.
The only way he can rationalise it is to believe that he drank from his urine collection bag... um... I do hope not!
Doctor Google says this is a normal issue at this stage in proceedings.
I am not sure I like "normal" any more.
So when I arrived, FL was chain-drinking iced water and spitting into tissues.
He was quite "needy" today, with lots of requests for water or a change of position in bed.
Unfortunately for FL (and with no criticism intended of any of the frankly amazing staff in the hospice) there were others in greater need of the nurses' attention.
It was a busy day in the hospice, after three new admissions yesterday.
In the afternoon, an unfamiliar alarm went off and I could hear running feet and slamming doors. Things do not usually happen at a rapid pace in the hospice, because the worst thing that could possibly happen is the thing that everyone is expecting to happen. People are calmly and quietly brought in... and taken out.
I don't know what happened.
Back at the farm, I have started to make the house into my home.
Instead of tidying round the edges of chaos, I have been reclaiming the space, both mentally and physically.
This morning I set up the kitchen table as my crafting space.
It felt good.