Seeing mum today was quite a shock. The bruising on her face was far more extensive than I had imagined. She looks like one of those Hollywood horror monsters whose flesh is all the colours of rotting meat. She has also injured a leg - her right hamstring is very tender, the physiotherapist discovered - and she is not able to walk without assistance. I spent some time helping to walk mum around the common room with the physiotherapist; mum moved a slide and glide walker ahead of her while we each held on to a loop of the lifting strap which was secured around her chest.

Mum appeared to be suffering a headache, or it might have just been the pain of the injury; she has a big bump on her forehead. It is again remarkable how her bones stand up to falls. We cannot recall mum ever having broken anything, and this must be considered a major blessing now. Anyway, after the short walk we sat her down and although I talked to her, she soon fell asleep.

Other things I noted...

I have never seen such a lack of recognition on mum's face. My face, my voice, my name - none of it really seemed to register at all. Yet mum has come off Risperidone and is currently only being given Panadol to dull the pain of the injuries. Apparently her aggression has already begun to show. One of the assistants showed me several red marks on her forearms, all of which had apparently been caused by mum. She seemed very happy-go-lucky about this occupational hazard, and I thanked her and apologised for it, but I think that this foretells a return to the Risperidone, but perhaps at a reduced dose, as a compromise between unsteadiness and aggression. The staff at the home are incredibly good, I think. They take time to stop and explain what has been going on, they talk to mum as if she is a friend, and do not patronise her, and they seem genuinely pleased to see her improvement since her return, which has been significant, I am told.

Greg told me today what mum was like at the hospital. She was biting his hand, kept grabbing at his sunglasses, and constantly fiddled with the sheet and her sleeve, appearing to want to do something with them but never managing to do it. He said it was like dealing with a six-month-old. He saw no recognition either, but did at least get a smile from her when he tickled her feet.