One of the first things that happened once we had the ACAT assessments done of mum and dad was that an Occupational Health and Safety Officer came to have a look at the house and advise on what ought to be done. Much of her advice was common sense and easily taken: remove rugs with curled edges, remove rugs from slippery surfaces, keep floors clear, and so on.

There were three more substantial suggestions for improving our parents' house:
  1. Provide grab-rails in the shower
  2. Paint white lines on the outside steps
  3. Level off the head of a drain just outside the gate
At the same time that she made these suggestions, the officer also gave me a number to call to get them done. I got on the phone straight away, naively thinking that this was all going to be done for free - after all, it was at the government's suggestion, it was necessary, and it was to save costly injury. Wrong.

A couple of days later the handyman turned up and started work. This caused great confusion for my dad, who couldn't understand why any of the work was being done - even when I explained that it was all for safety. I think dad thought I'd gone a bit mad, actually. Anyway, within a couple of hours all the work was finished and I paid the bill, which turned out to be quite reasonable anyway. Mum was plainly delighted to see the handrails in the shower, but could not be encouraged to get in there and christen them. Dad kept asking how long it would take for the paint to dry so he could walk down the steps. When I finally gave him the OK he tried them out, making a great pantomime of stepping on each new line - holding each foot in the air for so long that I thought he was liable to crash down at any moment.

In fact, while the handyman had been painting the steps he offered the opinion that they would all have to be demolished soon and replaced with a ramp. I acknowledged that this might one day be necessary, but for now we could do without it.

In the interval since, I've made it my business to keep floors, and especially walkways clear. It is a bad house in this respect. The hall dog-legs through the house. There are fragile glass doors between the lounge and the hall, and they do not close properly. The armchairs are oversized for the house and act as major obstacles. There is a change of floor level at the bathroom door. The toilet is cramped and inconveniently situated at the back of the laundry, which is packed with unused items. My dream is to strip the house of all its inessentials, leaving only what is needed or appreciated by mum and dad. I doubt I'll ever realise it.