The Pharmacist

Sarah Priestly was searching through one of the many unpacked boxes at home in the spare bedroom, intent on finding some books that Alice Roberts might enjoy reading. True to her word, she’d taken her a couple of novels from the somewhat limited library at The Elms, but the selection was poor and Sarah was sure she’d find more suitable offerings in her own collection.

‘Unpacking those books at last?’ Jack poked his head around the door.

‘I would if I could find the shelf space to put them, but no, I’m looking for some that will suit one of the residents at The Elms. Their library consists of some very ancient, dog-eared Mills and Boons, or westerns, which are hardly appropriate. I’ve got a couple of Kate Morton novels somewhere that she might enjoy.’

‘You’re on the dementia unit now, aren’t you? Will she be up to reading?’ Jack asked.

‘Oh yes, Alice is an intelligent lady and although they suspect dementia, she seems quite lucid to me.’

‘I hope you’re not going to get too fond of your clients, love. You shouldn’t get attached, you know.’

Sarah smiled, Jack always accused her of being too sentimental about the kind of work she chose to do, but she loved working with people. He’d already expressed concern that working with the elderly could be depressing and feared she might become attached to individuals who were in the latter days of their lives.

‘Yes, so you keep telling me, but this lady’s not old, only fifty-five.’

‘Goodness, we’re not far off that. Why’s she in a residential facility at her age?’

‘Just the dementia, I think. It’s sad, as Alice doesn’t appear to be confused and you can have quite an intelligent conversation with her, but Lynne says she’s living in a kind of fantasy world. Alice told me all about her career as a teacher in Matlock, but apparently, it’s all in her mind. The poor soul has never been a teacher. Most of the while, she’s fine, yet occasionally she becomes agitated and asks to go home, but then most of the residents do that at times, I suppose.’

Jack grinned. ‘You take her those books, take the whole box in if you like. It’ll save me having to put up more shelves.’ He’d just finished an early shift and was heading for his bed for a couple of hours while his wife was getting ready to go to The Elms for the afternoon. She kissed him goodbye and took her books with her, thinking of Alice and hoping she’d enjoy them.

* * *

Alice was sitting, staring out of the window when Sarah looked into her room.

‘Hello, Alice, I’ve brought some books you might like.’ She placed three books on the table beside the bed and watched Alice’s face transform from pensive to pleased.

‘That’s so kind of you. They look interesting.’

‘I’ve enjoyed them, so thought maybe you would too. Is your daughter coming in today?’

‘I think so. I’m not sure.’

‘Perhaps she’ll bring your granddaughter to visit. You must be missing her. What did you say her name was?’ Sarah remembered the child’s name but wondered if Alice could.

‘Millie. She’s such a sweet little thing and the image of her mother when she was that age, but I’m not sure Rachel will want to bring her here; it might be upsetting.’

‘You could always use the visitors’ lounge downstairs. It’s quite cosy in there and near the front door. If we know when she’s coming, you could have it to yourselves.’

‘Oh really, I didn’t know about that, but it sounds a good idea. I’ll ask Rachel to bring her in if it can be arranged.’

‘Great, if you tell someone when she’s coming they’ll book the lounge for you.’ Sarah thought Alice seemed quite well. She offered her a cup of tea or coffee and then went off to get one. On her return with the tea, Rachel was with her mother, so Sarah went in, introduced herself to the younger woman and asked if she would like a drink too.

Rachel shook her head. ‘No thanks, I only have a few minutes this afternoon.’

‘I was just telling Alice that we have a small visitors’ lounge available on the ground floor. If you wanted to bring your daughter in to see her grandma, you could use it. It’s quite cosy and even has a few toys.’ Sarah watched Alice’s smile widen, but Rachel stared coldly at her.

‘Can I have a word with you outside?’ Rachel sounded annoyed and marched into the corridor away from earshot of Alice. Sarah followed but shrank back slightly as Rachel, who was a good six inches taller than her, towered over her and spoke in a half-whisper.

‘I don’t know what my mother’s been telling you, but I don’t have any children; therefore, she has no grandchildren. Please don’t encourage her in these little illusions. Things are difficult enough as it is.’ Her tone, although quiet, was sharp and determined. Sarah was at a loss to know what to say.

‘I’m so sorry… she told me you had a five-year-old daughter called Millie and I assumed it was true.’

‘Well, it’s not. My mother’s living in a fantasy world and I’d rather you didn’t encourage her in these ramblings.’ With that, Rachel turned abruptly and went back into the room, leaving Sarah embarrassed and upset that she’d inadvertently said the wrong thing. She thought she’d better tell the sister about the confrontation with Alice’s daughter in case there were repercussions and so went straight to the ward office.

The duty sister was checking the medicine trolley ready for the afternoon rounds when Sarah found her.

‘Lynne, I think I’ve just put my foot in it and upset one of the visitors!’

The sister looked surprised.

‘’Fess up then, what have you done?’ She closed and locked the trolley to give Sarah her full attention.

‘I’d asked Alice if her daughter was coming to visit and if she might be bringing her granddaughter. I mentioned the visitors’ lounge and said that they could use it if they preferred, and just now, I repeated the offer to her daughter. Rachel took me outside to inform me that Alice has no grandchildren, it’s another of her fantasies, but she seemed cross about it. I’m so sorry. I assumed there was a grandchild. Alice told me the little girl’s name and age; there was no reason to doubt her…’

‘Don’t worry about it. I shouldn’t think Rachel will complain about such a trivial incident, but if she does, you’ve done nothing wrong, and we’ll back you up. I’ll add the imagined ‘granddaughter’ to her notes, and I think in future we’ll have to take everything Alice says with a rather large pinch of salt!’

‘Poor Alice, I’d asked her about any grandchildren to try to cheer her up and lift her mood and she spoke so affectionately about the little girl. I almost wish for her sake that it wasn’t simply her imagination.’

‘Patients with dementia can be quite inventive with their delusions.’ Lynne smiled reassuringly. ‘I often wonder where their stories come from. Perhaps they choose a better version of their past, one they would have preferred to the reality their life actually was? But don’t fret, Sarah, we’ll put it down to experience, shall we?’