04/07/2018

A further update to the previous update’s update: Yesterday La Source sent the Aged FIL back with his arm in a sling. We’ve now had 24 hours of peace and quiet. There was a major meeting at the Aged FIL’s house containing most of the Management staff of the carer’s association, and the Management staff of the Home Nursing association. In brief, they said “Aged FIL, it would be better for you – in fact it would be better all round – if you went into a special-care retirement home. Just for a short while, you understand, until your condition has improved.”
His answer was very simple, and consisted of one word.
“No.”

During this twenty-four-hours-of-down-time, LSS discovered that the Aged FIL’s house insurance policy just so happens to include a thing called “Legal Cover”.

“I wonder if?” LSS mused.

So she rang the number provided, spoke to the lawyers, and explained the situation. “Oh yes,” they said, to the background sounds of ringing cash-registers. “What you’ve described to us about your father’s treatment amounts to what we call in the legal profession, ‘Medical malpractice’. Don’t worry about a thing. Send us all the documents and we’ll take care of it. We’ll send an RL (Registered Letter) to Monsieur HHH (Hospital Head Honcho), and then discuss CC (Compensation Claims). After all, caring for the Aged FIL is now going to be a lot more expensive, non?
Marvellous. {Please understand, I’m summarizing here.}

Well, this evening, as we were putting our feet up and pouring a well-earned glass of Martin’s Wallop home-brew, the phone rang. It was the carer at the Aged FIL.

“He’s having trouble breathing, you need to call the doctor.” Yes, yes, all well and good. But the time happens to be 18h40. The doctor works office hours.

And, guess what?

Correct. There’s no reply from the doctor’s telephone number. LSS abandoned her half-finished glass of Martin’s Wallop finest home-brew (accept no imitations), and went next door to see what was what.

I eyed her half-full glass speculatively, but decided that discretion was the better part of valour, so left it alone.

The ambulance was called (i.e. LSS called the emergency services, which is the fire brigade, which sends an ambulance)… and the Aged FIL will shortly be whisked off to the hospital. Which hospital? Well, the one the fire brigade here normally uses, of course.

And which one would that be?

Answers on a postcard to… no, I’ll save you the bother. Romorantin.

I wonder if they’ll break his other arm this time.

NEWSFLASH…. LSS put her foot down. And to everyone’s surprise, asked if the ambulance staff could take him to La Source in Orleans instead. “Oh,” they sighed. “Well, I suppose we could make an exception. Just this once.”

Stay tuned for more exciting developments…

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