Yes, it gets worse.

It appears that when Greg tried to remove the church elder's telephone number from dad's phone's memory, he actually remove all numbers. Maybe it was one of those 'accidentally on purpose' acts. In any event, we all got a bit more peace and I now have a good explanation for why dad seemed to realise that calling me every few minutes was a waste of time. In fact, he didn't realise anything of the sort. What he found was that his phone no longer seemed to work, his lifeline to the world had broken and, like a lot of people in dire straits, he took to the streets.

What actually happened has come to us by third-hand report. Dad was found by two Jehovah's Witnesses in the street outside the house, apparently terribly confused and unable to tell them what was wrong. However, he was able to identify where he lived, and they took him back to the house. It was at this time that one of the new careworkers arrived. It was also at this time that someone - we do not know who - started making a melodrama of the whole affair. A call was made to dad's doctor. A call was made to Rachel. Via the social services, I think. The doctor then also called Rachel and explained, without listening to anything Rachel said and apparently without reference to his notes which would have told him that this had already been done twice, that dad must go for an ACAT assessment. Everyone seemed extremely excited, Rachel says. The careworker said dad had been found 'in the main road'. This had alarmed Rachel, since that would have meant that dad had wandered a long way, but it was simple a rather theatrical description of the street where dad lives. I, of course, remained blissfully ignorant of all this.

Today I found a note that had been left at dad's place by Total Health Assessment Services Australia - yet another social service organisation, one I have never heard of before. They have arranged for dad to see his GP for an assessment next week. Whether this is connected to the 'main road' incident, I do not know.