"Quick, quick. Grab a pen and paper!"

"Quick, quick. Grab a pen and paper, X here, from care home XX." "You need to write down the phone number quickly. Quick. Quick. Your mother has been found." I sit bolt upright in bed with a jolt, yanked brutally out of my last bit of REM sleep by the phone. The adrenaline instantly goes racing through my body. What is this? Confused, I look at the clock. "What on earth time is it, it's still pitch dark. Hmm, half past six." On the other end again: "Quick. Quick. We're not allowed to do anything. You have to get in touch with the phone number, write the number down quickly. Your mother has been found." Mrs. X just rattles on.

Slowly it starts to sink in what the lady on the other end of the line is actually saying. Mother? Huh? I don't have a mother there at the care home at all. But I do have a father. And he isn't a flight risk. In fact, he considers his bed the best place on earth. Never in a million years would he set off at the crack of dawn. And besides, the pace of that old man with his walker (he calls it his "wobbler" these days), well, that isn't very brisk anymore. And even if he did make a run for it, I could comfortably brew and drink another cup of coffee before getting in the car. To arrive on the scene half an hour later. And even then I could still fish him out on the corner of the street. Yeah, it doesn't get any speedier than that.

"Stop," I say to X. "I don't have a mother with you at all. I have a father there. Mr. Y. In room.." Silence. "Huh? Your father?!" Me: "Yup, my father. Not. My. Mother." Silence again. "Oh nooo, nooo.. Then I've got the wrong family on the line. I need a different family." And off she goes, gone. Beep beep beep…

I hope things turned out all right for the mother of, well, someone else. And I really do hope Mrs. X is doing okay too. That after the panic of the moment, she was looked after well by her colleagues. That together, calmly and constructively, they were able to reflect on the escape of someone else's mother. And to think up, for instance, how it could go a bit more smoothly at the next escape.

Even in stressful moments you can build in focus, really! By checking in with yourself just for one tiny moment after all and taking a very conscious breath. So that your brain gets a bit of oxygen again. And you yourself get a bit more of an overview of what actually needs doing, instead of immediately shooting into blind (and often wrong) action. As colleagues you can and should help each other. By pausing together for a moment, a lot of additional hassle can be prevented.

Despite the confusion, I hope that Mrs. X and her colleagues can have a bit of a laugh about the incident too. I certainly can. Hey, we're all only human, aren't we?!