Firstly, welcome to the inaugural post of Behind the Screens! Just a little glimpse into my life and the daily chaos that occasionally leaves me thinking, Did that actually happen? Sharing these stories might give someone a laugh—or at least a smirk.
So, November Was a Fun Month…
My stepdad ended up in the hospital again. (No sympathy, please; it was his own fault!) This was just three weeks after he’d last been there for the exact same thing. Insert muttering of rude words here.
Now, with a normal family, this might cause a mild inconvenience. But I’m not normal, and neither is my family. My mum’s eyesight is currently so poor she’s practically blind. Add the fact she’s not getting any younger, and for the past couple of years, I’ve been her digital assistant—paying her credit card, doing her online shopping, you name it. She literally can’t see the screen.
Oh, and I live 90 miles away. So, unless it’s an online task, I’m about as useful as a chocolate teapot.
As for my stepdad? He’s basically her eyes… which would be helpful if he didn’t only have one working eyeball. I’ll leave you to imagine how well that works, especially given he hates helping at the best of times. Cue more muttering of rude words.
The Chaos Begins
I get a call from him to let me know he’s back in the hospital. “Ring your mum,” he says. Great. Panic mode is activated.
We don’t know how long he’ll be in for this time. She’ll need me to order her groceries and provide general support. The last time this happened, he was in the hospital for three days, and she only ate one sandwich a neighbour brought round. So, I start looking into easy-to-cook meals for her and potential assistance services—basically, anything to make sure she doesn’t starve.
While ordering supplies online, we hit the modern-day miracle (or nightmare): the one-time passcode (OTP) for her debit card. It’s sent as a text to her mobile. Perfect, right? Except she can’t see the text, and her one functioning eyeball is currently in the hospital. Facepalm.
Now, don’t get me wrong—I think OTPs are brilliant for security. But when you’re trying to help an ageing, practically blind parent, they’re a colossal pain in the backside.
Problem-Solving 101
Since there’s no way around it, I have to use my own card to make the purchases. Not a big deal—when the eyeball returns home, she can transfer the money back via online banking. Sorted.
Over the next four days, I’m constantly on the phone with her:
- Checking she’s eaten.
- Seeing if she needs anything.
- Keeping her company because she’s lonely.
You know, standard daughter duties when your stepdad’s in the hospital for the second time in a month.
Enter the Eyeball
Stepdad finally comes home, and we try to enlist his help to sort the OTP issue so Mum’s card works for the pet food shop again. He’s in a strop because no one’s showering him with sympathy. (Did I mention this was his own fault for ignoring doctor’s orders?)
I explain the situation and tell him exactly what to look for in the text message: a six-digit code. Simple, right?
Nope.
He inputs everything but the code:
- The last four digits of the card.
- The reference number.
- Their surname.
Predictably, the card gets locked. Now, even the places where it was working perfectly are demanding an OTP.
Oh, and he starts berating Mum because this is apparently her fault. Rolls eyes. He stomps off downstairs, muttering, to start walking on thin ice for the rest of his days.
Daughter to the Rescue
“It’s fine, Mum,” I say. “Come over for Christmas. We’ll get you a new phone with a bigger screen; I’ll fix everything while you’re here, and you can have a couple of days away from him.”
She suggests bringing the dog. I veto that idea immediately—because I have four cats now, and at least two of them would probably pack their bags and leave if they met a dog.
Cue another few days of setting dates for her visit and researching smartphones that are easy to use and see. Finally, I feel like I’ve got everything under control and can return to my usual routine.
Panic Mode: Round Two
Or so I thought.
One standard workday, I sit down to bill a client for the work I do at the start of each month. I pull up my invoicing software to retrieve the timesheet.
Except it’s not there.
SHIT. Did I forget to start my timer?
I double-check. Nothing. Then my brain goes, But did you even do the work?
Oh, DOUBLE SHIT!
It hits me: I was supposed to do that work the day the eyeball called to say he was back in the hospital.
You know that scene in Four Weddings and a Funeral where they just keep saying “fuck”? Yeah, that was me at 10 p.m., pacing around my office. There wasn’t much I could do at that hour, so I fired off an apologetic email to the client, explaining the family drama that had fried my brain.
I spent the rest of the night lying in bed, annoyed at myself for forgetting something so important.
Redemption and Reflection
The next morning, I got all the updates done. Thankfully, my client was incredibly understanding about the whole situation. Still, it irks me that my brain let me down like that.
Looking back, November was an absolute whirlwind of hospital drama, logistical nightmares, and a few choice moments of “WTF is my life?” But hey, everyone survived; nothing caught fire, and I’ve got a fresh perspective on juggling family and work.
Sometimes, life gets messy, and you just have to laugh, learn, and move on. Here’s hoping December brings a little less chaos—and maybe a lot more chocolate.