... and this, five hours later...
The ivory tower in the background is where Amelie and Toby were born. Why Lisa wouldn't walk there in labour, I have no idea. It's practically within spitting distance. She could have made it between contractions.
Anyhoo, the second window down on the far right is the operating theatre where they yanked Am out of Lisa, while the one on the same floor at the far left is the triage room, where they sent her back home with Toby... four hours before he was born. Interestingly, a lot of the lights were on in that first photo, but they all appeared to have been switched off by lunchtime. So either there was a power cut, or the staff went outside to play snowballs.
Personally I haven't been out at all, but one person who has braved the weather today is our postman, who arrived at his usual time of noon, and handed us the letter we've been waiting for. Yes, exactly one week after we requested it, we're now in possession of a written statement from the council's emergency plumber, detailing his version of the events that unfolded on the evening of Wednesday, 2nd January. And here it is...
Yeah, so do I. Because, to be honest, I was expecting something slightly more detailed. You know, like the 600-word statement I've written. But still, I suppose plumbers aren't known for their literary skills. At best, they're known for rescuing princesses from turtles in the Mushroom Kingdom. Report-writing barely comes into it.
Still, I'm grateful they entitled the letter with the words "leak from flat above", because the plumber gives the impression it was our washing machine. I was hoping he might verify the fact that the water leaked into three different rooms and caused significant damage, but to be fair, the insurance company didn't ask for that. They requested we get confirmation of the cause of damage, which we've duly done. So as the letter suggests, that should be sufficient.
We've now written a covering letter, and included our 600-word statement, the plumber's 26-word statement, our neighbour's 10-word statement, some original receipts, proof of the value of everything we don't have receipts for, and fourteen photos providing evidence of all our water-damaged stuff. After which I packaged it all up, weighed it, and realised that on top of everything we've spent so far, it's going to cost us another £1.20 to send it. It's just a shame we can't get to the postbox because of snow.
10 comments:
That's a lovely green sports car that Lisa owns.
You're quite right, walking is very good when you're in labour. And you have a brilliant answer when you meet someone who asks when the baby is due.
Oh hang on, you've changed to Blogger comments. Why's that?
Maybe you should stagger to a Post Office and send your claim and papers by recorded delivery. A bit more expensive, but with the assurance it won't (shouldn't) get lost.
Still no guarantee Churchill would admit they had received it though.
I, like many others on the interweb believe that these
photos are faked. Firstly the ‘hospital’ and the building to its immediate
right are all part of the Airfix General Medical & Victorian workhouse
range. Clearly the detailed flats opposite would be of Weetabix box and sticky
paper construction and the cars shown are all manufactured by Matchbox, and have
a paint finish of an almost luminous hue which obviously no one in their right
mind would purchase or drive. I also noted the inconsistencies of the blue car
at the end, which changes both colour and direction.
Finally, you claim to have been visited by the postman. This
clearly didn’t happen as there are no footprints across the front garden which
(by law) they have to walk across.
In other words, you don't believe a word Phil says, Jon. You WOULD do well working for Churchill Insurance!
Phil’s mum, when we met up with Phil, Lisa and the kids he
told me that men had landed on the moon, his favourite colour is corduroy and
chocolate could cure most common ailments. None of which was found to be true.
So if you could put a good word for me with HR at Churchills I would be most
grateful. (If I get to deal with Phil and Lisa’s claim I promise to be lenient)
As long as we get our truffles back, I'll be happy.
There were no truffles!
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