Saturday, November 7th 2015
Had the pleasure of waiting in the wings throughout Mom’s surgery day yesterday, and visiting her today. So far so good!
[I know, we’re on the floor in the hospital waiting area. Don’t worry, it’s not only a really lovely and clean hospital, New England Baptist is STRICTLY orthopedic, no E.R. or infectious disease. ]
Needless to say Mom was rather medicated upon coming out of surgery (thank you Dr. Hwang), but honestly her spirits were great. She was working hard to wrap her groggy mind around the fact that the surgery was *over* AND she was still alive! (Generously, she had prepared herself and daughters for the unlikely possibility this would not end up the case, but alas turns out it’s not yet her proverbial *time.* Praise be.)
Once she was settled in her room in excellent care, it was time to go home for shut eye.
After a naturally rough night, she signaled good news:
Being unencumbered by gigs today (halleluia), I realized I might also need to get unencumbered by these knuckleheads too.
In the meantime it was nice knowing she was enjoying the art we’d put up for her:
The kids keep drawing her ROCKET SHIPS for some reason (why not).
The hospital also gave her a rose, and I collected some bright Ginko leaves from the courtyard.
One thing (of many) going for my mom, is the fortitude of her MENTAL ACUITY (along with all her faculties actually, seeing, hearing, etc. etc…. everything you need for full enjoyment of life besides freedom from PAIN.) Probably the most instructive thing I’ve gained from this whole process lately is witnessing her read EACH and EVERY one of the absolutely innumerable FORMS she’s had to sign. Each one is more convoluted than the last, and she always asks about any and every single point about which she either does not *understand* or -pity the fools- *agree.* Here she is reading about what life is going to look like in the foreseeable future.
Then comes Manda:
And Baby Mary:
Mary caused quite a stir with the nurses on the ward. “Baby alert!” they cried in excitement. “Oh this must be the baby going to 413! I heard all about her!”
Mary goes in for snack:
Although she seems to question my dubious “balloon” decorations:
Poor mom had a veritable parade of practitioners stream through her room all day. It’s exhausting to entertain that many professionals, but she is in extraordinary care and she’s honestly handling it with grace, aplomb, appreciation and, I daresay, optimism and even humor.
Incidentally, one of her visits today was from, of all people, the hospital Chaplain. Mom and he were just concluding a discussion of their differing religious beliefs when I arrived, after which she agreed to let him lead us in prayer. Before surgery I had teased her that she hadn’t spent her lifetime’s journey overcoming her roots as a Southern Baptist to eventually *die* at “New England Baptist Hospital.” (Haha, I know.) But the graciousness of the Chaplain cannot be overlooked. He was a truly lovely human being -or as Mom said, “a beautiful Christian.” And the prayer was heartfelt and touching.
In any case, it is fantastic having Mom’s in a world class institution whose expertise and priorities, unlike our spines, are totally freaking strait.