"What's her name?"
"Loretta Dent. But just call her Loretta. She's not really one for formalities."
"Hi Loretta," I turn towards the patient, kneeling down beside her, "what are you doing down there?"
"Well, I'm not really sure! I was just on my way back from the loo, about to go to bed I think, and the next thing I know, Alfie's in here with me, a phone plugged to his ear, and he's telling me not to move!" She looks around her, making sure that she really is on the floor, and that she's not going to fall any further.
"Alfie!" She calls. "Alfie dear, be a good boy and pick your school bag off the floor. Your father will be home any minute, and you know how much he hates things in the middle of the lounge!"
Alfie takes me to one side, and explains that his parents divorced when he was twelve years old. He hasn't heard from his dad since, some forty years or more.
"It's alright Mum, everything's clear. Let's get you sorted. This nice gentleman has to come to help you up off the floor." A mock look over my shoulder to locate said nice gentleman fails to do so, and I tell Loretta that I presume he means me.
"Are you a doctor?"
"No. A paramedic. An ambulance man."
Two hours later, we were.
"Oh, am I glad to see you lot again..."