The hospital has lost my missus.
I don’t know whether it was by accident or design. She can be a bit of a handful if she isn’t happy, and hospitals do not make her happy. I don’t blame her for being unhappy nor do I blame them for losing her.
I checked our insurance and it covers a lot [including getting pregnant! At my age?] but there is nothing in there about compensation for mislaying someone. Bugger!
Phoning the hospital requires a lot of patience [pun intended]. Basically there are two responses – either the phone is engaged or else they don’t answer it. Fortunately they don’t have any of those blindingly irritating recorded messages [your call is important to us!] or menus. If I had to repeatedly listen to background music while I waited I would, by now be running naked through the hedges screaming that there’s a Greensleeves chasing me. I must be thankful for small mercies.
On one of my rare successful chats with them they kindly gave me the ward number which gave a slightly better chance of being answered. I got through to a nurse this morning [on the fifth try] and she said yes, that they did have her but she’s gone. I asked where and she said she didn’t know. She sounded embarrassed, but I think there was a touch of relief in her voice. I told her I understood.
I suppose I had better return to my quest of getting through to the main number again.
If friends ask how she is and I reply that I have lost her they are going to jump to the wrong conclusion and sympathise.
I don’t know what they’ll say if I say that the hospital has lost her.
Maybe mislaid is a better word?