You walk in, and the first thing you notice is the noise—the good kind. Laughter echoing from the lounge, the clatter of a dominoes game, someone belting out “My Way” during karaoke hour. (Yes, karaoke. Mildred is now a feared contender.) Advinia claims they focus on “person-centred care,” which sounds like corporate jargon until you see a staff member stopping mid-task to help a resident pick out a nail polish color. That’s the magic sauce, isn’t it? Little moments of humanity.
The rooms? Not bad at all. Private, with en-suite bathrooms, and many have garden views. You can bring your own furniture, so Mildred’s terrifying plastic-covered sofa made the trip. (I’d say it adds character. She’d say it adds class.) The clinical bit—nursing care, dementia support, palliative care—is handled by registered nurses who actually seem to know your name by day two. That’s rarer than you’d think.
Let’s talk about the food (because obviously).
Forget the stereotype of cold, beige mush. Parklands Court serves proper meals—roast dinners, fish and chips, even a curry night that gets the whole place buzzing. Mildred, who once lived on toast and spite, now raves about the lemon drizzle cake. “It’s almost as good as mine,” she says, which is the highest praise from a woman who considers store-bought cake a war crime. The chef even accommodates dietary quirks—no small feat when you’ve got a resident who insists on ketchup with everything.
Parklands Court - Advinia Health Care
Activities? Oh, they don’t mess around. There’s a full-time activities coordinator who organizes everything from chair yoga to armchair travel sessions (slides of Paris, minus the jet lag). Movie nights, gardening club, and a weekly pub quiz where the prize is a bottle of sherry. “It’s like a holiday camp for the retired,” Mildred sniffs, but she’s already memorized the quiz answers. The irony is delicious.
