Mummy’s Always There For You… If You Send A Text

I’m a doctor at a private practice, looking over a young woman who made an appointment this morning because she doesn’t feel well. Unfortunately, due to other circumstances, we’re actually running quite late today, so she’s been waiting for more than an hour. In that time, her symptoms have progressed enough that I’m confident she needs an intravenous antibacterial, rather than waiting for the few days it’ll take for oral medicine to work.

That means that she needs to go to the hospital’s emergency wait room. That’s an instruction that’s terrifying under any circumstance, and in this case, while she’s still lucid; her symptoms have progressed enough that I’ve been able to observe her having more and more trouble focusing through our appointment.

Me: “You can drive yourself to the hospital, but I really think it would be better to have someone with you. Do you want me to explain all that to your parents or a partner, as well? You can call them if you like.”

Patient: “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”

She gets out her mobile phone and calls. After a minute, I hear the tell-tale voice of an automatic answering machine.

Patient: “Mum, Mum, it’s [Patient]. Pick up the phone. Pick up the phone. I know you’re listening. I know you’re home today, and I know you always just let the phone go to voicemail, but this is important.” *Pause* “All right, fine. Mum, the doctor is sending me to the hospital emergency room. I bet now you feel guilty.”

She did successfully call her father after that.