Monday, 13 December 2010

The day I lost my mother.


My mother had a fall yesterday - took a tumble down two stairs and, after putting up with the pain for five hours, called an ambulance.

This morning I rang to see how she was. No answer.

So I rang the nearest hospital. "Never heard of her."

So I rang the regional hospital. "Nope. Not here."

So I rang the '000' number. "You sent an ambulance to my mother last night. Where did they take her?"

"Royal Melbourne Hospital"

So I rang the Royal Melbourne Hospital. "No, We have no-one of that name."

So I rang Royal Melbourne Hospital emergency department. "Who?"

So I rang the ambulance again. "Can't find her. You sure she went to RMH?" "Yes. The ambulance arrived at the hospital at 10:55pm and left again at 11:17pm. The case number is N123-456-7890"

So I rang the emergency department at RMH. "We've checked all the records. We don't have her. But give me your number and I will ring the ambulance myself."

Thirty minutes pass.

I get a call from the RMH: "She is in Knox Private Hospital."



Footnote: She has damaged a vertebrae but it will mend and she is back home.


  1. To lose one parent may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.
    - Oscar Wilde

  2. You must have been so worried and concerned, I am so happy to read that you have found your Mum and hopefully her back will mend again soon.

    I like JCN's quote from Oscar Wilde, maybe we should put tracking devices on our elderly parents so that we know exactly where they are.

    xoxoxo ♡

  3. I didn't know whether laughter was an appropriate response but a small snort escaped once I read that she was okay. I'd have been tearing at my hair and uttering oaths by the third call.

  4. Oh that sounds tragic to me..pheww..glad that she's on the mend!

  5. A happy ending to a fraught occasion, Lee. I like the idea of a tracking device, both my parents are long gone, but I might find it useful!

  6. Well, dang!
    About time to get a GPS device on her.
    Then she'll be easier to track, but then, after the mend, and you see that she visits the dancing boys clubs on Wednesdays,'ll probably stop checking so much.

    Give her my best, Lee.
    (and that wasn't it>)

    Old aunts used to come up to me at weddings, poking me in the ribs and cackling, telling me, "You're next."
    They stopped... after I started doing the same thing to them...

    at funerals.



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