Father Forgive Me For I Have Sinned
“Doesn’t that make you feel like you’ve done something wrong every time you look down at your wrist?” I ask the male half of the Rapid Response team as he takes Mum’s pulse with an electronic device.
He grins, and looks sheepish, a nine year old face placed on top of his tall, well muscled, and heavily inked frame, which assumes the postures of a pre-pubescent lad. In repose he stands one shoulder up, the other down, one had grasping the other wrist. Grown and not grown. What possible sins? I think, and I want to probe him, but he seems easily embarrassed.
These two have been in the kitchen for about half an hour now, taking Mum’s history, which always takes rather a long time.
The girl is ever so engaging, and Mum is quite enjoying the visit, but we really should be getting on our way.
I had asked them to take a look when they first arrived. A catheter is basically a plumbing job. Tubes and valves and coupling pieces and a bag.
“Oh no, we don’t do catheters.”, they said as they crossed the threshold. “Valves and things. We aren’t trained in those.”.
Well that was a shame because the catheter was the problem. No urine had been passed all night or morning and it was now 11am.
So they did all the things they are trained in, taking blood pressure, pulse, notes and giving reassurance.
Mum was sitting in the wheelchair with her coat and hat on, ready for them to lift her in a wheelchair out of the door. I had taken her myself to hospital the day before to have the thing fitted because she had not been passing water, but she was a bit weaker today and I thought she might fall going out of the back door.
“I tell you what.”, she says, “I will take a look just before we go. Which leg is it attached to?”.
“This one.”, I say. “Oh, hang on. It’s filling up. I am really sorry.”. I don’t know what went right. Maybe it had been twisted and was now untwisted.
“Oh, never mind.”, she said, “It’s been loving meeting you, and meeting your dog. He’s a lovely dog.”.
He has certainly quietened down since he spent time in the kennels, hadn’t tried to knock either of these two over, and was generally pretty winsome, as long as his skin problems were overlooked.
So Mum signed the copy of the copious notes which was now her discharge paper from the Rapid Response Team, and they left us.