Half a Result.

I went to visit Mom in the rehabilitation hospital this Sunday to find her in good health, though a little down.

"Hiya, how are you?"

Before she could reply, my wife came back with -

"Where are your teeth!"

"In this pot here that they gave me. They're ever so nice here, especially the little nurse who...."
"No, listen, why haven't you got them in?"
"I have, I never take them out"
"No, that's your top set"
"Yes, that's right. I got them from Dr Shaw down the Tettenhall Road..."
"...in 1950, yes, I know"

I went to see the Ward Sister. (I've left out the guilt-trip conversation she had with me about living 200 miles away for the sake of brevity.)

"She broke them Friday afternoon so we've emailed the NHS Dentist to see when they can come out and take a look. She's a little down because of it."
"I'll see if I can contact the dentist I spoke to last time, they seemed to be on the ball, they might come out quicker? And then I can ring you back and you can ring the NHS Denstist back who can then say when he's coming out and let me know and I can then ring the other Dentist up and tell them what happening and then..."

I briefly has a vision of the Woman from Airplane as the Sister's eyes glazed over.

"Just let me know" she said quietly "on Monday"

I rang up the Dentist this morning.

"Hello, remember me? Well, she's broken her teeth."
"Yes, I know."
"What? Are you clairvoyant?"
"No, we're the NHS Dentist and we've got an email about your mom, we'll go in this afternoon."
"So I don't need to ring anyone up and then ring them back and then you back again because you're my Dentist and actually the NHS Dentist as well so this phone call will suffice?"

"No, and, Yes."

*click*

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