Reason to Think

My mother had surgery to start off the year, broke her foot a month or so later, then was hospitalized and nearly died with a sudden illness after that. As you could imagine, the last six months have been stressful. Anyone who’s cared for a loved one knows exactly what I mean. If you haven’t, it’s non-stop questions by health care providers, medical test after medical test, and agreeing to the proposed treatments despite the potential risks.

If you’ve ever seen House (with Hugh Laurie on Fox), it was nothing like that. My mother’s doctors and nurses were polite and professional. My mother and my sister were the ones who were difficult. Instead of my mother doing what she was told to do, she was a pain in the butt. It was only after I told her to knock it off if she wanted to get out that she finally started to cooperate. My brother was Saint Jude compared to my sister. When she came in to visit my mother, which fortunately for the hospital staff wasn’t as often as it should’ve been, let’s just say the doctors and everyone else had to be rolling their eyes at her.

As for me, I thanked everyone who helped my mother get back on her feet. I sent thank you cards to the first responders, the intensive care unit and the floor that watched over her recovery. My mother told me that no one ever does that. I did. I figure people like to know they’re appreciated.

With all my mother’s health problems, I gave up a significant amount of my writing time between hospital visits, appointment rides, errands and everything else. In typical fashion, my mother acted like it was no big sacrifice. On the other hand, my sister didn’t seem to miss a day of shopping or a night of Bingo, including the first night my mother was admitted to the hospital after being found unconscious. She was supposed to stay with my mother for two weeks when she got out of the hospital. My sister made it all of one night. Isn't family wonderful?

The more I think about it, I must've been adopted.