A phone call at 2:20AM

- not to me but to Middle Cat. The residence was letting her know that the Senior Cat was complaining of chest pains and they were sending him to hospital as a precaution.

From long experience Middle Cat knew what the most likely problem was. The Senior Cat was not having a heart attack. It was not angina either. It was a problem the Senior Cat has experienced many times before - heartburn or, for the more medically minded among you, reflux oesophagitis.    He thought the same thing - even in his somewhat confused and sleepy state. He told the staff what he needed was to sit up with an extra pillow.  The night staff were not so confident and, rightly, sent him off.  He apparently went telling them NOT to tell us. Of course they did.

Middle Cat phoned me.

"I'll phone you when they let me know he is back," she told me. I  hung up feeling concerned but not anxious. Middle Cat phoned again just before noon. He was back and had gone to sleep. They would let her know when he was awake so we could prowl over and talk to him.

Middle Cat phoned in the late afternoon. Yes, she was coming to pick me up but he had just fallen out of the wheelchair trying to reach something. No, he had not hurt himself. "I am at screaming pitch," she told me, "Why won't he ask for help?"

I can understand her and I can understand him. He has been the one to help from the time he was old enough to help. He has always been fiercely independent - and then wonders why I get into strife for trying to be the same! It is also why we did not immediately rush for car keys or call a taxi to get us there to be with him. He would not have wanted us there in the middle of the night even though we knew what was going on. The hospital would have rung one of us - probably me this time - to let us know we needed to be there.

We prowled in. Middle Cat growled kindly at him. I stood there and purred crossly and, I hope, lovingly. He knows. He "won't do it again" - but we know he will. What else could we do? He looked old this afternoon. He is old. Ninety-eight years is a very long time.  

But one of the neighbours was appalled that we did not go rushing in to the hospital. "He could have died. You would not have been there!" I understand that. I wanted to be there but we have to trust that the hospital would call us in if they thought it was necessary. We know, perhaps better than many people, what emergency departments can be like. My doctor nephew did a long stint in one during his training. I've been in and out of them with family and friends. Non-hospital people can get in the way.  We can think we are doing the right thing but, if it  is not a life threatening emergency where comfort of a familiar face is a help, cui bono?

The Senior Cat's first words were, "I'm so glad you two didn't go rushing in there."