Example of incident: hospital with my father

I remember when my father became ill. It was 10 years ago, now and he was 75. He was living alone at the time. His wife, that’s my mother of course, had died the year before, and he had been, well, depressed I suppose you say, ever since. Anyway, It was one January, just after Christmas, I went to see him on Sunday morning, as normal, and he didn’t answer the door. I thought, “that’s odd!”, and I used my key to get in, and then I found him… in the lounge, lying on the floor. Well, I phoned the ambulance in a panic and then I waited. I can remember it now –a terrible feeling. After about 20 minutes, the ambulance arrive and they rushed him off to hospital, and it turned out it was a stroke. Not a serious one, though- but he was in hospital for over a month. Of course, all the time he was in hospital I was on the phone to my sister, Kate, and we tried to decide what we should do with him when he came out. Well, I couldn’t have him at my place as I was out at work all day and then it was clear he needed constant attention. Kate was the obvious choice as she didn’t work and had a big house so he could have had his own room. But no, Kate wanted him to go into a nursing home. She said it was the best thing for him, but I am convinced that she simply didn’t want to look after him. She just didn’t want to take on the responsibility. Anyway, in the end he had to go into a nursing home. I went to see him as often as I could, but that was only at weekends, of course, because I was working during the week. But Katie went to see him once. I know that it was a long way for her to go, over 3 hours by car, but he was in that home for six months. Finally, he had a heart attack and that was it. It killed him. Kate came to the funeral but I never really forgiven her.

I remember when my father became ill. It was 10 years ago, now and he was 75. He was living alone at the time. His wife, that’s my mother of course, had died the year before, and he had been, well, depressed I suppose you say, ever since. Anyway, It was one January, just after Christmas, I went to see him on Sunday morning, as normal, and he didn’t answer the door. I thought, “that’s odd!”, and I used my key to get in, and then I found him… in the lounge, lying on the floor. Well, I phoned the ambulance in a panic and then I waited. I can remember it now –a terrible feeling. After about 20 minutes, the ambulance arrive and they rushed him off to hospital, and it turned out it was a stroke. Not a serious one, though- but he was in hospital for over a month. Of course, all the time he was in hospital I was

introduction

on the phone to my sister, Kate, and we tried to decide what we should do with him when he came out. Well, I couldn’t have him at my place as I was out at work all day and then it was clear he needed constant attention. Kate was the obvious choice as she didn’t work and had a big house so he could have had his own room. But no, Kate wanted him to go into a nursing home. She said it was the best thing for him, but I am convinced that she simply didn’t want to look after him. She just didn’t want to take on the responsibility. Anyway, in the end he had to go into a nursing home. I went to see him as often as I could, but that was only at weekends, of course, because I was working during the week. But Katie went to see him once. I know that it was a long way for her to go, over 3 hours by car, but he was in that home for six months. Finally, he had a heart attack and that was it. It killed him. Kate came to the funeral but I never really forgiven her.

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