Although I had a wonderful experience at the hospital where I recently gave birth, I was asked three times about my mother. Apparently the computer system was smart enough to know that I was her daughter and it linked us together. What the computer system was NOT smart enough to know is that she had died. I had to explain this three times, to three different people: once before my son was born, once after he was born, and the two days later when we were back for a bilirubin test. It was not something I wanted to be reminded of at any of those moments. And how do you explain it? She died? She passed away? She's deceased? Then the person who asked mumbles "Oh, I'm sorry" and then is embarrassed. Yeah, awkward.
When I told my father about it, he said, "Yeah, I got a call less than a year ago from the hospital asking how her cancer treatments were going. I had to tell them that she'd died--over five years ago."
"Well, somehow that information is STILL not in their computer system," I told him.
"Why does the computer make the connection anyway?" he asked me.
"Oh, probably in case I don't pay my bill, they want a way to find me," I said.
"Well then, that's where you made your mistake. You should've just said, yep, she's my Mom--send the bill to her."
Oops. That would have been funny, Dad. And smart. Very smart.