My Dad went missing on Monday. Or to be more precise, he had been into Foresterhill hospital in Aberdeen for an eye injection. I had word that he had boarded the 3.20 p.m. train in Aberdeen for the one-hour journey to Keith, but that there was blood in his eye and he could not see very well. The was a taxi waiting to meet this train and take him the 5 minutes to his new sheltered housing cottage.
I rang his mobile at 5.30 p.m. - no response. I rang his home - no response. I did the same at 6.00 p.m. - no response. Again at 6.30 p.m. - no response. There was, as far as I was concerned, no explanation other than that he had collapsed or fallen over on getting out of the train. I was ready to phone round the hospitals.
But I called him again at 7.00 p.m. He was at home having a glass of whisky! 'Oh, were you worried?' he said. It turns out that he had not boarded the train. Because of his eyesight, he had gone to the wrong train on the wrong platform. By the time he realised his mistake, the correct train had left Aberdeen station. So he had to wait two hours for the next train. But didn't think to switch on his mobile phone.
It is a pity that the NHS asks a 92 year-old to make the 60 mile journey from Keith to Aberdeen without ascertaining how he is going to be able to do this. Neither my sister nor I can always travel up to Northern Scotland from Southern England to help him with this journey.
But I guess all's well that ends well.
No comments:
Post a Comment