I’ve been trying all week to get my mother to the doctor’s to have her dressing changed. The hospital where she fell, and where they temporarily dressed the wound, insisted she should go soon. But I have not been able to get to her at any time when the surgery might be open and she can’t get there on her own. Every time I see her, the arm looks worse. The plaster is stuck tight with old blood congealed around it. “Did I bump into something?” she asks when I look at it.

Read more: http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2007/jun/09/familyandrelationships.family3