There is a French expression that is particularly apt to describe the age-related events of last week: ‘un coup de vieux‘. It means to age noticeably, literally a ‘hit of old age’.

Ageing is a gradual process peppered with moments that are more discernible. When it comes to advanced old age, I’m not sure what category being 98 falls under, the ‘senior moments’ become more frequent and can have serious consequences. As a carer, they are also hard to watch.

Grandma had a tough week. She had several ageing ‘hits’ as the French would say.

The first old age ‘hit’ happened on Tuesday in dramatic fashion, just like grandma likes it. I had a work call from 12 to 12.30 so I told her I would make her lunch after I’d finished my meeting. The call overran by about 20 minutes, I knew grandma would be getting impatient but there was nothing I could do about the lateness. As soon as the call ended, I quickly went downstairs and into the kitchen to start cooking, I was met with a strong smell of smoke and burning. I rushed over to the stove, inexplicably, grandma had poured a large quantity of oil in a pan and left it on a high heat. It was smoking and spitting. I immediately turned the heat off and removed the pan.

‘What on earth did you do? That could have badly burned us both!‘

Panting, grandma came into the kitchen confused and maintained she had no idea how that happened. I’m not buying the sudden amnesia, but the fact she left a pan full of oil on a high heat for no apparent reason does worry me. Her impatience at me making her lunch is usually manifested in loudly getting her tray out of the pantry and banging it on the kitchen counter. Patience and subtlety are not her strong suits.

Thursday brought more another ageing ‘hit’, this time in the form of the dreaded bank statement review she insists on doing. We set up her special strong light, her two magnifying glasses, and me, her seeing-eye granddaughter helpfully pointing out each entry for her to read out so I can find the corresponding receipt. Due to her macular degeneration, this is always a tough task but, with some effort, she can usually where I’m pointing to and slowly adjusts her magnifying glass to read out the numbers and the reference. This time, no matter what we tried, she could not see what line I was pointing to, nor see well enough to read out any entry. This upset her greatly and the whole thing ended in tears with me reassuring her it was just a bad day and it would be better next time. I felt so sad and helpless watching her struggle and cry.

The week’s final ‘hit’ has ignited a battle that I feel will be longer than the one I won over her drinking more water, that one took 2 years. Very early on Friday morning, as I was doing the laundry, I noticed grandma’s underwear was more soiled than usual, I also saw stains on her skirts. I decided to broach the sore topic of grandma needing to wear her incontinence pads, by gently pointing out some of the stains. She immediately said I was talking ‘rubbish’ and she couldn’t see anything. That may or may not be true- the one benefit of having macular degeneration is that displays of visual bad faith are difficult to prove. I said that she was going to have to wear her pads daily, nobody would know and we would have less stains. The response was a firm NO.

‘I’m sorry, but I’m going to insist. I will lay one out for you. It is not a big deal and it’s normal at your age. Everyone wears them!’ I said, trying to keep my tone light.

‘Not they don’t. I’m not wearing them.’

As a type this, we’re in the middle of a standoff. I won the pad battle on Saturday- grandma was very rude to me and kept up her sulking all day. I lost the Sunday fight and have insisted again today (Monday). I will win the war but I feel this will be a long slog. I understand it may feel embarrassing but I don’t really understand the fuss she is making about it.

The American actress, Bette Davis apparently said ‘Old age is not for sissies‘. I think she was spot on. Neither is living with old people!