Mary isn’t being
straight. Not with her doctor, not with her friend, certainly not with us. Even
her cat Bob takes the long way round to the kitchen.
‘No. I haven’t
had a drink tonight? What do you take me for?’
‘It’s just that
your speech is a bit slurred, Mary. And there’s a carrier bag of empty vodka
bottles just inside the door.’
‘Yes, well, I
gave up drinking a long time ago, thank you very much. An’ the reason I might
possibly-be-slurring....’ (she exhales down the three words with her eyes half
closed) ‘... is because I’m very, very
tired. Okay? Officer? I’ve had a busy day, what with one thing or another. Now
then. What are you going to do about my back?’
Mary’s next door
neighbour Janet came round as soon as she got in from work and picked up the
message on her answer machine. She’s still got her coat on, and the spare set
of keys in her hand. Caught between wanting to help Mary and wanting to go
home, she sits perched on the edge of the armchair, periodically glancing at
the door.
‘Mary’s had
trouble with her back before,’ she says. ‘Haven’t you, Mary? She saw the doctor
last week and he gave her some different pills, but they haven’t really agreed
with her. And then of course she had that fall.’
‘When did you
have the fall, Mary?’
She shrugs.
‘Last week.’
‘Did you see
anyone about it?’
‘The doctor!
Keep up.’
She tuts and
closes her eyes.
‘And what did the
doctor say?’
‘He gave me some
more pills.’
Janet hands me a
paper bag.
‘I think this is
everything.’
It’s obvious
from the blister packs that Mary hasn’t taken her full complement.
‘It’s no wonder you’ve
got pain if you’re not taking your meds,’ I say to her.
‘You don’t like
me, do you?’ she says.
‘Do you know, you’re
the second person who’s said that to me recently.’
‘Oh?
Coincidence, you think?’
‘Maybe. Maybe
not. But that’s beside the point. Let’s see how we can help you tonight. Are
these the only meds you take?’
‘She has
diazepam, too,’ says Janet.
‘Really? So where
are they?’
‘I told you,
Janet. I don’t like taking them things. They make me go funny in the head.’
‘But were they
prescribed for your back pain?’
She nods.
‘I don’t like them.’
She starts to
cry.
Janet sighs.
Bob looks in
from the kitchen, hesitates, then turns and goes out through the flap in the
back door. I have a strong urge to follow him, but I take a steadying breath and
carry on.
We’re there some
time.
We refer her to
the out of hours.
*
Much later, we
get a call to an elderly fall. I’ve been to this address before – some time
ago, but I know the ambulance makes frequent visits here. Agnes is ninety
something, unsteady on her feet, but still living with her husband Norman, who
has Parkinson’s.
We use the
keysafe to gain entry and find Agnes sprawled half on and half off the bed.
Agnes has activated her careline button – not so much because of her position
on the bed, but because of Norman – and I can see why. He seems flushed and
confused, wandering about the bungalow on some obscure mission. We can see from
an ambulance sheet that a crew’s already been out tonight. All things
considered we can’t leave them alone. We take them both in, as a job lot.
*
I park alongside
another ambulance at the entrance to A&E. Dermot is round the back of his
truck, putting the ramp up.
‘We just brought
in someone you know,’ he says.
‘Oh? Who’s that?’
‘Mary.’
‘No!’
‘Yep. The out of
hours went round, saw her slumped on the sofa, banged on the window but got no
response, so he called the police who smashed down the door with their big red
key.’
‘Is she all
right?’
‘Pissed, is all.
Complaining of back pain but we couldn’t get much sense out of her so we
brought her in.’
I start to open
the back of our truck.
‘Funnily enough,
we’ve got one of yours.’
‘Oh? Who?’
‘Agnes.’
‘Agnes! So what
about...?’
‘Yep. Norman,
too.’
I swing the door
open to reveal the bright interior, Agnes on the trolley, Norman on a side
seat. They both look out, see Dermot, and wave.
He waves back.
‘And so the circle is complete,’ he says, in a mock heroic voice. ‘Our work here is done.’
4 comments:
In a situation like this with Mary, my urge, like yours, would have been to follow Bob. But then I'd have had to call you guys because I'd have become stuck in the cat flap.
I'm surprised you don't start giving out nectar points to some of these frequent flyers Spence.
Makes you realise how much time ambulance crews are spending on the same people. It also shows that some need the help and well some could be served better elsewhere.
Talking about wasting time, I recently drove past our local A&E and saw 9 ambulances queuing to drop off, when I came back along the same road it was 10. Big headlines round here about how much time is wasted waiting for A&E
Tomvee - I think I was so frustrated by the end (this post was a shortened version of events, btw) I could've quite easily forced my way out through the cat flap. Silently.
Jacks - Nectar points is a good idea. Or maybe the reverse of nectar points. Which would be fines, then - off your debit card. :/
Anon - There are a significant number of people who attend a number of times (without good reason). They could def be served better elsewhere, but quite where that is I'm still not sure. Fear of litigation is a major driver of these things, I think.
It's a national problem - lots of factors of course, and a long time brewing. Not sure what the answer is - but a thorough-going overhaul is def required.
Cheers for the comments!
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