Pehaps a Better Tomorrow

I can tell you, this has been one long week.

I'm sure it's been even longer for my mother, except for the part where she was under anesthesia.

I wish I had a list of upcoming funny blogs regarding her hospital stay and her continuing at-home recuperation.

Not a one.

It has been painful to watch. Things are better now, four days out. Although we have taken turns care taking; it has taken a toll on us all.

I can only imagine what it has taken from her almost eighty-five year old mind and body.

Plus, of course, she is ruminating over a family squabble like it is war between Russia and the USA.

Me? I just wish folks would grow up.

I ain't too happy with my own body. It doesn't like unusual places to sit or stand. It really doesn't like stooping. I won't go into detail of nights of leg and foot cramps, numbness that wakes me up, stiffness that won't let me move and zipping pain that seems demonically possessed. It really makes me angry that I can't step up to the plate more and be more confident in what I am doing.

Of course, part of that is there is not one speck of nurse in me. Give me a crazy person and I'm good to go. Physical impairment? I'm good to go there, too, just in the other direction. That embarrasses me to admit. It's like I have some core value missing.

Mother hasn't hesitated to tell each and every doctor, nurse, aide, cleaning lady, and passer by what a terrible shape I am in. They glance at my she-could-plow-the-south-forty physique and mentally roll their eyes. Color me embarrassed.

Of course, Brother of Many Surgeries gets the same amount of stage time, and he looks pretty good too, as long as he ain't naked. Don't get me wrong, I ain't seen him naked, (in many years) but I've heard rumors.

All in all, I suppose we have done the best we can. We've worked and watched, cajoled and encouraged, talked and listened.

And so far, nobody's died.