I was deeply engrossed listening to Austin Mitchell tell me how the whips were hot on his tail if they felt he was being indiscreet on his blog when my phone rang. I thought I had switched it off beforehand, and immediately did so, without giving it a second thought.

I checked it when seated on the train home and picked up a voicemail from my son David telling me he was  having to go home from school because he had had a bad bang on his head while playing football, having crashed head-on with another player, that he was feeling sick and the school felt he should be checked over by the hospital.

There was lots of whispering in the background: “Tell her not to worry, that you are ok,” he was being prompted to say.

If only I could close my eyes and find myself by his side, I wished. Fortunately, granddad was on hand to take him for a check-up at a local minor injuries unit for concussion. I collected David with an advice sheet of important head injury symptoms to watch out for – no bright lights or loud noises, no TV, just quiet rest. 

This kind of accident had also happened to my younger son James, again while playing football. He felt sick and sleepy the next day, but I just thought he was under the weather, unaware he had banged his head the night before. However, when later that evening he wanted to fall asleep on the grass on a beautiful summer’s evening while watching David play cricket, alarm bells began to ring and I took him straight to hospital where he was given a scan and stayed in overnight for observation. Fortunately, he was fine.

David doesn’t seem too bad, he wants to watch Holly Oaks and also fancies a steak. I’m just going to check that he isn’t listening to his iPod.