16) Belligerent and Obnoxious - and new things to collect.

A blog about myself, daughter of an extreme hoarder parent, who fell over on Christmas Day 2025 and broke 3 ribs. He’s currently in hospital thinking he can come home soon... He has terminal oesophageal cancer, kidney function issues, a bladder and a chest infection, asthma, diabetes, skin cancer and he’s 95. Meanwhile I’m running around like a blue-arsed fly trying to possibly make things safe at his house in case he gets sent home, yet being acutely aware he will have an uncanny ability to know if anything’s missing and he won’t be pleased. I have a job and family of my own. Slowly but surely, I’m losing the plot. 

Can I tidy the house? Can you eat an iceberg? 

 

 1 of 14 kitchen cupboards

I went to the house on Thursday 22nd January and spent 5 hours there sorting and clearing. I took a car load to the tip and then went home for a shower. I came back to Cardiff to see him. Dad was sitting in bed complaining about the food he'd just been served.

He didn't ask how I was.

He didn't say 'Lovely to see you.'

He didn't smile when I walked in.

He never does.

He demanded I tell him what was happening. I said I didn't know - surely they'd told him already. Apparently not. I said I'd called them many times and everyone said the decision had to be made by someone else or a team of people. 

He told me again he wanted to go home. I said 'Your house has to be tidy before you can come home.' After him looking at me like I'd just crawled out of a sewer, he demanded 'What? What? WHAT? as he couldn't hear, I was forced to say it a 4th time, very loudly. I saw the other eight men on the ward were listening along with 4 staff and 5 visitors.

He refuses to have anyone he doesn't know in his house. I am the only one who can, or is willing to throw things out. Ant is terrified of throwing anything out which may be missed. I have promised Ant I won't throw anything out that he isn't comfortable with. 

As we sat there he said he could hear people talking about him through his hearing aid. He said they were saying his name over and over. I believe this to be odd - if you're going to talk about someone you don't use their full first and last name over and over. You use 'he'. There's no need to repeat the name over and over. Weird and one of the reasons I don't buy it.  He fiddled with his hearing aid in an attempt to change the battery. I found the card with new batteries in it and passed him a new one.  As it was small and fiddly, I helped, peeling off the sticker and fitting it for him.  I passed it back to him. 'Damn' he said, 'it's dead'. I pointed out it was a new one. He said it may be an old one as he had a few of them at home (so he has been hoarding the batteries and so they're now out of date and therefore dead.)  He finally handed me the hearing aid, with a lump of earwax on it. I held it near my ear but not touching it. I couldn't hear anything other than very loud feedback.

I opened the hearing aid case to replace the card of remaining batteries and inside were bits of paper. I worked out these were the plastic film used on top of  his hospital meals. I asked why he was keeping them. He said it was in case anyone wanted to know what he'd been eating. That made me think - what kind of person saves labels from hospital food? It's just plain weird if you ask me - especially for someone in his position. Just WHY?

He asked would I be taking him home over the weekend. I reminded him I was having a weekend away in London this weekend with 7 friends for a big birthday treat for one of us. It had been booked since October and we were going to see a West End show one night and then the Abba Voyage show on the afternoon of the 2nd day and then home. It was to be my 3rd visit to Abba Voyage and I was incredibly excited and determined not to talk about home at all for the whole weekend.

'Ah,' he said and reminded me he needed clean pyjamas when I next came in, along with more hearing aid batteries and some underwear.

The tea trolley arrived and I said I wanted a chat with his nurse while he drank his tea. His nurse is lovely and she said she wasn't sure what was happening as there is a palliative care team and a doctor and a team and she wasn't sure what was going on either. She said I should take a break - she could see I was stressed. she said she thought I could use a hug and she hugged me and I cried. Again. She suggested I talk to my GP. I told her I was going away for a well needed girly weekend this weekend and we had a lovely chat. She said she hoped I enjoyed my weekend.

I went back in to see dad and say I was going now. I went to give him a hug - always aware this may be the last time and just in case it is I hug him. He grabbed me for a hug and said 'I do love you you know but we really must stop arguing.'  This always upsets me because saying something and following it with a 'but' negates everything just been said.

I had my weekend away and it was EPIC.

26th January 2026

I was back in work and I had a call from dad's consultant. He had a foreign accent so there may have been something lost in translation. He said 'Your father he have a major problem!' Well that was true, i said, he has cancer, broken ribs, diabetes and asthma...

'No, no,' he said, 'he has far more bigger problem...'

Was this they way I found out the inevitable, I wondered... what was I about to find out. 'Um, how'd you mean?' I asked.

'He have far bigger problem with his house...'

'Ah! Yes. He does.'

'He don't need to be in hospital and he has finished his care. I don't need to keep him here any more!'

So...

The doctor wants him out. He wants him out. I'm sure the nurses want him out. It would make sense for him to be out.

But he can't come out, because now social services are involved and they say it isn't safe. It probably isn't safe - but it's what he's used to and it wasn't the clutter which caused his fall. Furthermore the longer he stays in a hospital bed, the more likely he won't be strong enough when he finally does come home. 

'Can you tidy the house?' the consultant asked me.

'Can you eat an iceberg?' I asked him.  My unintended sarcasm was lost in translation. We decide I will speak to the nurses on the ward and he hangs up.

I went to the ward that night.

Dad was asleep. I woke him gently. 

'Ah!' he said, 'Is Ant with you?' I confirmed he wasn't. There was a long silence as he got out of bed and sat in the chair. 'Is it raining?' he asked.

'Yes. It's been raining all day.' I said.

'Ah. Right!'

Silence. With his hearing issues it's really difficult to have a normal conversation. Even if he could hear, conversation isn't his thing - at least not with me. I sat, silent, wondering whether to bother telling him about my weekend away. I decided against it - I knew he wasn't interested. He couldn't even fake interest. He never has.

His nurse came over. 'Hi Izabelle - hey how did the weekend with the girls go?' I was thrilled she asked and that she remembered. I told her all about it and she told me about a similar experience she'd had. Fabulous. She had to go then and I sat there with a smile on my face.

The silence continued. 'Could you pass my coffee over?' dad said. I passed him the cup. More silence.

Freddie car trips to the tip 1

What is making me mad?   Everything

What is making me happy?  My Abba weekend memories

What is making me cry - Everything

What have I done to relax? had a weekend away with my friends

Interesting finds