Groundhog Day

Sometimes, you just know how a conversation will go.
Last night, I went to visit my mother. I could have gone out on the bike, but there was a little repair job on her kitchen window that needed doing. So, I turned up armed with the appropriate tools and an incredible sense of deja vu.

Fifty odd years ago she had an unsuccessful operation to enable her to have children (I am adopted) therefore all doctors know nothing. Therefore, the medication that she has been on for the last year following some heart trouble is doing her no good. The doctors do not understand that she is not like other people.

“I’m going to stop taking this medicine that they want me to have,” she said.

“But it’s keeping you alive,” I replied. “What does your doctor say about you not taking it?”

“They say that I will probably have a heart attack if I don’t take it.”

Seems like a no-brainer to me.

“But I had that operation and that didn’t work, how do I know that these pills will work?”

“Ok,” says I. “Firstly, that was completely different, I suspect that the doctor concerned is no longer with us. Secondly, the fact that you are still here suggests that the pills are working.”

Thus went the conversation last night. As it did the week before and, I suspect, how it will go next week.