Grace

Another night in A&E with the asthma, a First Aid refresher course and a Parents' Evening at school today, is the backdrop for this story.

At Parents' Evening tonight I was grabbing the odd minute between appointments to cram for my First Aid tests tomorrow. I was reading the section on strangulation and suffocation with fascinated horror; "I thankfully won't be tested on that" I reflected as a mother approached me, arm outstretched to shake me by the hand. I closed the book. There was a horrible picture in it. The mother then did the thing I always like parents to do and, with a gently reminding "Hello, Miss Holmes. It's Grace's mum", I realised that I wouldn't have to look with desperate blankness at her sticky-label name. And so we launched effortlessly into conversation like the old-acquaintances we are. All the pertinent issues were raised, we talked about strategies to help Grace make even further progress, and the meeting ended.

When, ten minutes later, Grace No.2's parents sat before me, a cold wave of nausea surged through me.

I'd given the wrong feedback to the wrong parent.

Polar opposites would be a fairly accurate comparison to make between the two Graces.

Once these parents had left, I jumped up and ran to the nearest phone to offer sincere apologies to Grace No.1's mother and to explain why my account might have seemed more than a little odd.

Always read sticky-label names.

Here endeth the lesson on Grace.