Jiggity Jig
Back in her own digs after several days of being hospital bound, Mom puts her “feetsies up.”It feels wonderful being on this side of the hospital bed again. My mom needed me, early Sunday morning. Her gall bladder was screaming and she asked for a lift to the ER. An ambulance would’ve been a better […]
Back in her own digs after several days of being hospital bound, Mom puts her “feetsies up.”It feels wonderful being on this side of the hospital bed again.
My mom needed me, early Sunday morning. Her gall bladder was screaming and she asked for a lift to the ER. An ambulance would’ve been a better choice, but I was happy to wheel her over. The lady’s done so much for me over the past couple years, it felt great to return the favor.
Apart from giving birth to me and aside from those 18-22 years when I was basically dependent on her as part of the dynamic duo of Mom & Dad, she also spent hours, days, weeks and months stationed by my bedside at three different hospitals as I gained the upper hand against the savagery of cancer. The least I could do was bring her some flowers and homemade chicken soup.
Navigating the halls, talking to the nurses and doctors and making hospital life feel a bit more comfortable, came back easily to me. Too easily, perhaps, since I almost felt like I needed a day pass in order to hit the bathroom.
Her stay was mercifully short, two roommates in length. And she’s home again, home again, jiggity jig like the other Mother she likes to quote.
Now I only have 49 years of payback remaining until I even the score.
