Kit's new here. Or Kitty, but most of us call her Kit, every now and then Kit Kat and a few of the staff call her Ginge when she's not around, despite her hair being silver in her later days.

Last night she was setting off the fire alarms so she is rather tired and cranky today, best give her a wide berth.

"Can you get someone to move Kit from her room so you can completely blitz her room? Her family are coming this afternoon."

Damn.

The two carers working with me today are Simon and Jen. Jen's lovely, not the sharpest tool in the shed, but really good with the residents. Si's not. Built like a tank and about as friendly, running about the place, moaning about the resident and phoning up his girlfriend. Unfortunately, Jen's busy.

Simon gives me the low down on what Kit was up to last night, I try and play it down, I mean, they don't really know what they are doing, Kit still doesn't know why she is here and who bought her here. If she did something last night, bringing it up today would be pointless, she would have forgot. I'm not trying to be harsh, that's what dementia is. Not Simon's problem apparently.

"If she can't remember it then it won't be an issue if she gets upset while we explain to her that she shouldn't do it in the future. Hey, it's not like she's gonna remember she's upset for too long."

Hmmm, not sure if it works like that.

Five minutes later, Kit has urinated down herself from pleading her innocence too hard to Simon. Five seconds later Simon's laughing himself silly on the phone to his girlfriend in the closest vacant room.

My conclusion for today, Kit's got severe dementia, Simon's severely demented.

Oh, and on a last note, my boss is getting on my back as he's seeing me talking to the residents more than he's seeing me cleaning, which is strange as the only time I tend to see him is when I go out for a cigarette. I used to think the smoking shelter was his office.

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