An Anxious Hour
Nov. 18th, 2012 09:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
major_clanger1515: ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
darth_hamster and I are in the Cutty Sark pub in Greenwich, which despite its name is not actually next to the Cutty Sark (that pub is the Gypsy Moth) but is the other side of the Old Royal Naval College and then some. We are most of the way through a nice Sunday pub lunch when I get a text from my brother Richard. He hasn't been able to get through to our mum all day.
This is worrying. Richard currently lives with my mum, except that right now he's on holiday with a friend down in southern France. He calls her every day, because although her health is better than it has been of late she is still 80 and has had some debilitating bouts of bowel problems which have landed her overnight in hospital two or three times over the last few years. I try mum. The phone is ringing engaged, as it apparently has been since morning.
I check my address book. I don't have any of my mum's neighbours' numbers in it. They might be at home, but we are half an hour from the flat. Richard is evidently in the same position. I call directory enquiries but they can't give me the number of the house next door (I suspect said neighbour may have reverted to her maiden name, having split up with her husband a couple of years ago.)darth_hamster suggests what I am thinking: call the police non-emergency number.
1535: I call 101. I reach a voice menu asking if I need the Met or another force. I choose the latter and the first option offered is Surrey Police, which is who I need. I then wait for 5 minutes in a queue, by which time we've paid our bill, left the pub and started a brisk walk back up the Thames Path. When I'm answered a helpful operator takes my details and those of my mum and says he'll send someone around. A couple of minutes later he calls back to check if there is a neighbour likely to have a key; I give some details.
We have a rather anxious DLR trip back.
1608: As we arrive at Westferry DLR station I am called by a mobile number I don't recognise. I answer it.
"Hello," say my mum, "a policewoman has just come to the house to check I'm alright..."
It turns out that her phone is on the blink, hence the continuous engaged signal. Reassured that she's OK I don't keep her hanging on a police mobile too long but say I'll let Richard know she's OK. About ten minutes later I get a call from my mum's house phone; disconnecting the downstairs phone lets the upstairs one work fine. I make sure I take down three of her neighbours' numbers and put them straight into the phone.
So, an hour of anxiety, helpfully and speedily dealt with. I am very glad indeed I live in an age and a society where this sort of service and support is available.
darth_hamster and I are in the Cutty Sark pub in Greenwich, which despite its name is not actually next to the Cutty Sark (that pub is the Gypsy Moth) but is the other side of the Old Royal Naval College and then some. We are most of the way through a nice Sunday pub lunch when I get a text from my brother Richard. He hasn't been able to get through to our mum all day.This is worrying. Richard currently lives with my mum, except that right now he's on holiday with a friend down in southern France. He calls her every day, because although her health is better than it has been of late she is still 80 and has had some debilitating bouts of bowel problems which have landed her overnight in hospital two or three times over the last few years. I try mum. The phone is ringing engaged, as it apparently has been since morning.
I check my address book. I don't have any of my mum's neighbours' numbers in it. They might be at home, but we are half an hour from the flat. Richard is evidently in the same position. I call directory enquiries but they can't give me the number of the house next door (I suspect said neighbour may have reverted to her maiden name, having split up with her husband a couple of years ago.)
darth_hamster suggests what I am thinking: call the police non-emergency number.1535: I call 101. I reach a voice menu asking if I need the Met or another force. I choose the latter and the first option offered is Surrey Police, which is who I need. I then wait for 5 minutes in a queue, by which time we've paid our bill, left the pub and started a brisk walk back up the Thames Path. When I'm answered a helpful operator takes my details and those of my mum and says he'll send someone around. A couple of minutes later he calls back to check if there is a neighbour likely to have a key; I give some details.
We have a rather anxious DLR trip back.
1608: As we arrive at Westferry DLR station I am called by a mobile number I don't recognise. I answer it.
"Hello," say my mum, "a policewoman has just come to the house to check I'm alright..."
It turns out that her phone is on the blink, hence the continuous engaged signal. Reassured that she's OK I don't keep her hanging on a police mobile too long but say I'll let Richard know she's OK. About ten minutes later I get a call from my mum's house phone; disconnecting the downstairs phone lets the upstairs one work fine. I make sure I take down three of her neighbours' numbers and put them straight into the phone.
So, an hour of anxiety, helpfully and speedily dealt with. I am very glad indeed I live in an age and a society where this sort of service and support is available.
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