Poor old Mumsy

Now what could that noise be? Ah, seems to be my phone ringing at 5.45am last Friday, and then the Mummy saga began..

Was Cathy on the phone in Clogland, who'd just had a call from Mum to say she couldn't get out of her bath and was stuck. Despite me never managing to persuade her to take her red emergency button anywhere with her, at least she does take the cordless with her to the tub (good for all those toyboy phone calls) and she'd somehow managed to press last number redial, summoning Cathy and then us.

So – legged it to Kingston and tried her keys – foiling us for the first time as she'd put the blob down on the lock and we couldn't get in. So moved to plan B – breaking in, never ideal in the pitch black, cold and dark at 6.15am. And were foiled for time number two – toughened glass is apparently actually tough enough to withstand being smashed with a claw hammer wielded by a big rugby man in gardening gloves. And her double doors were also tough enough to stop Hawksey kicking them in. Arse!

So – called the Police as Mum by now been stuck for an hour or so. Who – madly – told us to keep trying to break in as they wouldn't come. Skills.

So tried an alternative uniform – called the fire brigade out instead, who came with an ambulance for good measure.

So – 5 burly firemen, 2 ambulance men, one broken window, an old dear in the tub and me & H – oh yes, and of course the neighbours who we'd woken up early doors, whoops.

Poor Mum bit confused, had no idea she must have got into the bath at about 4am and was quite sure it was in fact the afternoon, a perfectly good time for a bath. Despite it being pitch black outside!

Eventually all was fine, shipped Mum off to Kingtston for a good check over and a 4 hour wait in the utter shambolic lunacy of the NHS A&E department (now renamed 'Majors' what a crock of modern day toss). Astounding how 15 staff members can faff around with very few patients, while loudly describing what was wrong with each and every one. Thank god for Parkside.

So now Mum is too scared to go in the tub, or for a walk on her own and we move into the next stage of looking after her. Thinking of trying to find a nice sensible 60 year old lady, and have written a card to pop into Waitrose's notice board. Here's hoping…

S.