Nursing Home Angst

An ode to Alma Thudd

Oh Alma, Alma why is it always you?
When Dad goes thud,
And I ask the question,
Who was on duty, who, who, who?

Alma was on,
She saw the whole thing,
When your father hit the floor,
With a crash and a ding.

I don’t want to point the finger,
Maybe its just bad luck,
Or maybe it’s because,
you don’t give a…truck??

I never learnt your surname,
But I’ve made one up instead,
It was the only way I could remember,
Who was on all those times, dad hit his head.

Why don’t I complain?
I hear you ask,
Because I have no real evidence to,
Bring her to task.

Dad can’t say anything,
And he does fall down,
All he does is mumble,
And when she’s near, frown.

Then there’s the other side,
I need people to care,
So complain about the staff,
I am afraid to even dare.

What say they don’t like it?
And see me as trouble,
My sins could pass to my father,
And he’ll be left in the rubble.

But Alma I’m watching you,
I’ll be a detective,
I’ll the gather the evidence,
So I can prove you’re defective,

You give a bad name,
To others in your job,
The professionals, the carers,
The rest of the mob,

So careful old woman,
When your next patient chokes,
It could the end of your career,
From Alma, the dear,
beeduh, beeduh, beeduh, that’s all folks!

(N.S.)
Written September 2005