Frank wasn't happy. He insisted on going back to his room, but when we got there, the nurse insisted that we'd go back to the dining room. We waited until 5.55 before Frank got his dinner. I can understand why he complains about waiting, that is a ridiculously long time to put some food on a plate.
Frank's room did not improve either: his newest room mate is an old man who experiences emotional panic attacks and is annoyed by the sound of Frank's tv. So much for the private room he was promised. The situation makes me angry and Frank has his own rather direct way of expressing his anger: suggesting violent solutions to the problem. 'I'm turning to right-wing extremist' he assured me. I adviced against that, mostly because Frank would look terrible with bleached blonde hair combed backwards.
The kalodrama is appropriately dramatic today.