When Life Comes to a Screeching Halt and Other Funny Stuff

I haven't blogged in a few days because my 83 year old mother is in the  hospital. She was quite ill, but is now on the mend (I hope).

It is an exhausting thing to take turns staying with the patient in a hospital. It's either boring, scary, or overload  information thrown at you.

And sometimes it's hysterically funny.

I'm never one to save the best for last, plus I'm so tired my eyes are half shut as I type. I will say I've gleaned several good stories from my stays so far, so be prepared to read hospital stuff for a few days.

Anyway, the funny:

Keep in mind my mother is 83 years old and her bladder ain't what it used to be. (and no, she doesn't have the Internet, so I'm safe saying all this stuff). She is also being fed lots of fluids IV as she was dehydrated upon admission due to puking non-stop for six hours or so.

We are sitting there calmly, when suddenly she says, "I have to go to the bathroom now."

That's pretty impossible. First, there is helping her sit up. Then finding the bedroom shoes with her feet, because, and I quote, "I'm not walking barefoot on this floor." I have to unplug the IV stuff from the wall, and she and the pole have to partner dance to the bathroom.

She almost made it, and did for the  most part.

But since she didn't make it a little part, she decided that while she was up, it would be a good time to bathe since no one had offered to help her with that.

I go and make sure her room door is closed while she washes her face and hands. By the time I'm walking back over, she is pulling her gown over her head. I see there's gonna be a problem, and say, "No, no, don't do tha - "

But it's too late.

Her gown is now hanging on her IV tube, to which she is attached. She's yanking on the gown, and finally I say sternly, "STOP IT!"  And squeeze between her and the pole and a chair and manage to push the nurse  call button. When they answer, I tell them, "We need some help." Then I turn around to squeeze my way back to my mother, who is standing there in the altogether.

And notice that her window blinds are wide open.

Hello everybody!

And I can't get to them to close them.

The giggles begin.

The nurse comes in, has to get another nurse, and they finally untangle the whole mess while I wrap Mother in her housecoat so it looks like a fuzzy baby blue sarong.

Ten minutes later she has a new IV in a new place on the other arm and is sporting a clean gown.

She even brushed her teeth before she lay back down.

I never did get those window blinds closed.