Fractured Communication

My mother was born in Brazil and moved away, but her family remained. One day, while I happen to be visiting, my grandmother complains about having some pain in her chest, so being responsible, my uncle takes her to get it checked out. An inconclusive X-ray shows that she might have a small fracture/crack in a rib. With something that small, there is nothing that can be done apart from resting and relaxing, which my uncle tells my grandmother to do but knows she won’t; she’s not that kind of person.

Fast forward to the next day when my mum rings my uncle from her home 11,000 km away. She starts screaming at my uncle about how irresponsible he is for letting his elderly mother be alone and untreated. It takes a few minutes for my uncle to understand that my mother is talking about my grandmother’s broken ribs. The subtlety of the fact that it might only be a tiny crack (1mm, maybe) in one rib has gotten lost in translation somewhere down the line. She won’t listen to my uncle trying to update her on the real situation, and she slams the phone down after having her rant.

My uncle then looks at his phone again to see he has a missed call from his ex-girlfriend. She is now a doctor and they are still in contact, mostly when my uncle wants some medical advice for one reason or another. He then calls her back to ask what happened. It turns out my mother called my uncle’s ex during her busy shift at the hospital and spent thirty minutes asking her about what was happening with my grandmother which, obviously, the ex knew nothing about.

My uncle and I agreed that my mother needs a new hobby and that I made the right call to move countries to get some space.