No Laughing Matter

It was difficult to find any humour Friday's fiasco. Not even the thirteenth and it was certainly a day from hell. It started with sunshine on frost and a fog of another sleepless night hanging in the chill air. Overnight Macfarlane's leg had taken on the look of a Wartime barrage balloon and Jeannie couldn't find the puff to blow a soapy bubble.
Both ended up in their respective hospitals - Mum by ambulance to the Royal with Morag in hot pursuit. - Mac ( "Can you make it under your own steam ? It'll be faster ........!!! " ) in our ailing Brava, to the acute Assessment Unit at the Western.
We can now give a whole new meaning to the word "acute " and "emergency ". Once more we were in for another dose of the bureaucratic nightmare that disables the work of dedicated professionals.
A long and weary story unfolded that is best kept for another time and place. Suffice it to say that we arrived as at 1. 30 pm in the afternoon and left for home some eight hours later more despairing and distressed than we were on arrival. With Mac in some discomfort we sat together in the crowded corridor amidst the pre Christmas rush of ailing elderly and generally afflicted " clients " .
After waiting about four hours we were seen briefly by a proficient young doctor who, however, had none of Mac's medical records to help her. So it was back to the joyless penitential corridor for a few more hours of excruciting tedium and anxiety.
To get things moving again, I confess to a wee tantrum. It seemed to do the trick.
Sincere apologies and a stroke of initiative from young Dr F empowered us again . " Come back tomorrow but this time go directly to oncology were, perhaps, you should have been all along " she said, aware that the system had robbed us of some precious peace and quiet.
Taking the bull by the horns we pitched up in Ward 4 today. Initial confusion among the staff melted into caring hospitality and concern. Twenty- four hours after the initial emergency referral we were given the level of advice and treatment we would wish as standard for everyone. We're back there on Sunday to begin the daily blood tests again.
It was cheering to come home to our illuminations and the prospect of a visit from Mike who arrived from Oz with gifts of smiles and hugs. He himself is the surprise package at Mel's 30th birthday celebrations tonight. So very sorry we had to miss out on what will be, without doubt, a quiet and peaceful evening - not.
Meanwhile, Jeannie spends another night under supervision, hopefully comfortable and safe.
mailto:macdoodle5@btinternet.com