Thursday, 13 September 2007


The phone rings. Early. I’m exhausted from my 9-hour road trip home yesterday, so I’m a little groggy at first. It’s Mum, naturally.
“Well you can guess where I was”
“Hello Mum. Where were you?”
“On the toilet”
“….Okay.. why have you rung me up to tell me that?”
I can picture her looking around for clues to why she has called. She hits on one that makes sense to her – I can hear it in her voice.
“Because these tablets say ‘G will ring you when it’s time to take one’ “
“Yes Mum, but I haven’t rung you yet, have I?”
At this point, I anticipate Mum will change the subject to avoid embarrassment.
“Well, I’d better get off. I’m taking the dog down to the Vets about her ears.”
“Mum, I thought she went to the Vet yesterday?”
“Mum, I was there when the Dog Groom lady took her for you. She came back with some drops for the dog’s ears.”
“Yes, I’ve got some drops for her ears here.”
“Well then she’s already been to the Vet. Now, since you’ve called me I’ll get you to have your first pill of the day.”
I can hear the unwillingness on Mum’s end. This is just too much for her right now.
“Mum, the box of pills is right by the phone. Can you see it?” (I’d hope so since she’s just read the label I put on the side of the box)
“Get the pills out of the box…. Do you see that 2 have been taken already? … Do you see that the next 2 have “Thu” written on them? …. Take one of those 2”
I end the call quickly before she can be distracted.

I can’t work out which is more stressful and infuriating: trying to help down the phone or in person.

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