On Monday 4 January 2010, when I phoned the Old Man to supervise his evening medication, his phone was engaged. It was still engaged when I went to bed. I had decided not to ask Mrs CJ to intervene, as the weather was particularly cold.
I had just dropped off to sleep when the phone rang. It was the Old Man on the line. He had now realised that his phone was off the hook. “Sorry,” he said. He told me that three items of medication had been delivered to his house that day. I knew that he had run out of two of these: bendroflumethiazide and amlodipine.
The next day, I phoned him at breakfast-time to supervise his morning medication. He told me that he had put the medication delivered the previous day into his sandwich-box; but he could not find any bendroflumethiazide or amlodipine. There was no box of bendroflumethiazide, and the amlodipine box was empty.
I suggested to him that he could not have put the newly-delivered medication into the sandwich-box, but he denied it. I had something else urgent to do, so I told him I would phone him back a little later.
When I phoned back, I got him to search again. Down the line I eventually heard a rustling. “Eureka!” he exclaimed. He had found the bag that contained the newly-delivered medication.
[Original posting 11 January 2010]