Mom knew she had arrived earlier than the appointed time when she pulled up in front of Dora’s house, but she was anxious to be on her way to Amarillo…anxious to get the dreaded spinal decompression surgery over with. Dora stuck her head out the front door and hollered that she was almost ready, then disappeared back into her house. To pass the time and calm her nerves, Mom pulled her paperback book out of her purse, rolled the car windows down, and quickly became absorbed in her latest story.
Several minutes had passed when Mom heard a faint sound coming outside the passenger window. Glancing over, Mom saw a hand waving at her through the window and heard Dora’s voice calling for help. She hurriedly opened her door and walked around the car, surprised to find Dora lying uncomfortably between the curb and the car.
“What are you doing on the ground…did you fall?” asked Captain Obvious, aka, Mom.
“Yes, I've fallen and I can’t get up! You’re gonna have to help me!” exclaimed my Mother-in-law, Dora.
Mom shuffled around to the back of the car and pulled her walker out of the trunk.
“Here…use this.” she instructed as she plopped the walker down in front of Dora.
“Dang it, Donna! I said: I. Can’t. Get. Up! I think I hurt my leg.” replied Dickie’s clumsy Mama.
As luck would have it, a white knight in a beat up truck saw the two little ladies beside the road and stopped to help. He managed to get Dora tucked into the car, returned the useless walker to the trunk, and sent them merrily on their way.
Uh, except the merrily part only lasted until Panhandle. At least for Dora. That’s when her leg began throbbing with pain. Which Mom – whether out of stress or a warped sense of humor - found to be hysterically funny.
I happened to be working in the same hospital where Mom was scheduled for surgery. I thought it was sweet that Dora wanted to come with Mom, to offer her support. They had planned to drive straight to my house, and I was waiting for a call to tell me they had arrived safely. That was not the call I received…
“Robin…hahaha…we’re almost to Amarillo…hahaha, but I swear, all that’s holding the two of us together is duct tape and bailing wire, hahaha. Dora thinks she hurt her leg, hahaha. She fell trying to get into my car…haha…and I didn’t even hear her …haha…cause I was reading my Nora Roberts book and you know how good her love scenes are, hahaha.”
“Wait a minute, Mom. If Dora is hurt, why are you laughing so hard?”
“Hahaha! Isn’t it awful…haha? I shouldn’t be laughing, cause Dora is really hurting, hahahaha. You don’t think she broke her leg, do you? BWHAHAHAHA?”
“Mom. Seriously. Stop laughing and drive straight to the hospital. Call me when you get lost.”
She called three more times trying to figure out how to get to the hospital. Mom’s sense of direction is about as warped as her sense of humor.
I had a wheelchair and a couple of my physical therapy buddies ready to help them out of the car when they arrived. Mom still had the giggles, but Dora’s ashen face wasn’t quite so jolly. According to the x-rays, she didn’t have much reason to be. Yep, it’s all fun and games 'til somebody breaks a hip.
And that, my friends, is how my Mom and my Mom-in-law came to be on the same floor of the same hospital after undergoing orthopedic surgeries a mere two hours apart on the same day. That was seven years ago. Since that fateful day, they have not been allowed to travel together without a responsible adult in the car.
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Tuesday happened to be my day for being the responsible adult.
Call me crazy, but I don’t agree that doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results is insanity. In my dysfunctional world…it’s optimism. Which is why, in an effort to kill two birds (or Moms) with one stone, I had optimistically made their cardiology appointments on the same day at the same time, with the same doctor. Bless my heart.
Act One of the Donna and Dora Traveling Road Show began in the clinic waiting room.
Several minutes had passed when Mom heard a faint sound coming outside the passenger window. Glancing over, Mom saw a hand waving at her through the window and heard Dora’s voice calling for help. She hurriedly opened her door and walked around the car, surprised to find Dora lying uncomfortably between the curb and the car.
“What are you doing on the ground…did you fall?” asked Captain Obvious, aka, Mom.
“Yes, I've fallen and I can’t get up! You’re gonna have to help me!” exclaimed my Mother-in-law, Dora.
Mom shuffled around to the back of the car and pulled her walker out of the trunk.
“Here…use this.” she instructed as she plopped the walker down in front of Dora.
“Dang it, Donna! I said: I. Can’t. Get. Up! I think I hurt my leg.” replied Dickie’s clumsy Mama.
As luck would have it, a white knight in a beat up truck saw the two little ladies beside the road and stopped to help. He managed to get Dora tucked into the car, returned the useless walker to the trunk, and sent them merrily on their way.
Uh, except the merrily part only lasted until Panhandle. At least for Dora. That’s when her leg began throbbing with pain. Which Mom – whether out of stress or a warped sense of humor - found to be hysterically funny.
I happened to be working in the same hospital where Mom was scheduled for surgery. I thought it was sweet that Dora wanted to come with Mom, to offer her support. They had planned to drive straight to my house, and I was waiting for a call to tell me they had arrived safely. That was not the call I received…
“Robin…hahaha…we’re almost to Amarillo…hahaha, but I swear, all that’s holding the two of us together is duct tape and bailing wire, hahaha. Dora thinks she hurt her leg, hahaha. She fell trying to get into my car…haha…and I didn’t even hear her …haha…cause I was reading my Nora Roberts book and you know how good her love scenes are, hahaha.”
“Wait a minute, Mom. If Dora is hurt, why are you laughing so hard?”
“Hahaha! Isn’t it awful…haha? I shouldn’t be laughing, cause Dora is really hurting, hahahaha. You don’t think she broke her leg, do you? BWHAHAHAHA?”
“Mom. Seriously. Stop laughing and drive straight to the hospital. Call me when you get lost.”
She called three more times trying to figure out how to get to the hospital. Mom’s sense of direction is about as warped as her sense of humor.
I had a wheelchair and a couple of my physical therapy buddies ready to help them out of the car when they arrived. Mom still had the giggles, but Dora’s ashen face wasn’t quite so jolly. According to the x-rays, she didn’t have much reason to be. Yep, it’s all fun and games 'til somebody breaks a hip.
And that, my friends, is how my Mom and my Mom-in-law came to be on the same floor of the same hospital after undergoing orthopedic surgeries a mere two hours apart on the same day. That was seven years ago. Since that fateful day, they have not been allowed to travel together without a responsible adult in the car.
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Tuesday happened to be my day for being the responsible adult.
Call me crazy, but I don’t agree that doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results is insanity. In my dysfunctional world…it’s optimism. Which is why, in an effort to kill two birds (or Moms) with one stone, I had optimistically made their cardiology appointments on the same day at the same time, with the same doctor. Bless my heart.
Act One of the Donna and Dora Traveling Road Show began in the clinic waiting room.
As the wait grew longer, the Moms’ patience grew thinner. They began to express their frustration loudly and vocally, their boiling disgust spilling onto the entire medical profession (excluding optometrists and pharmacists, of course). Mom pointedly explained to everyone present how she had almost become a nurse, but thank goodness had come to her senses. She had, in fact, bought the white shoes, stockings, dress and hat ensemble that all good nurses of the 50’s wore and had actually worked two entire weeks in the hospital. She explained how her budding career as a nurse came to a screeching halt when she was asked to bathe an elderly male patient. After she had modestly dabbed his chest off with a wet washcloth, he removed the towel across his hips and asked if she minded washing his...uh, junk. That was when Florence Nightingale threw the washcloth at her patient and walked out of the room. And continued walking right on out of the hospital.
But HAD she become a nurse, Mom explained to us all, she would never leave her patients waiting a whole hour in the waiting room. How. Rude.
Dora agreed, mumbling how she made it all the way to her wedding night without ever having to see a man’s junk, much less, wash it.
Finally (thank you Baby Jesus) we were called back to the examining room. Carrying three purses while leading two Moms through the maze of halls was not unlike herding cats. Slow, shuffling, noisy cats. With 45-pound purses.
Dora went through the battery of tests first. As Mom watched the nurse place electrodes on Dora’s chest for an EKG, she told us how much she had always envied Dora’s greatly endowed boobage. But not so much any more...
Dora bragged to the the nurse that her EKG would be better than my Mom’s, because she had never been a nasty smoker and everyone knows that smoking affects your heart. And makes your breath stink. And probably kept your boobs from growing. According to Dora.
After the tests, the exhausted nurse gave both Moms a copy of their individual lab results.
Dora looked at hers in confusion and said, “I never did know what a cholesterol was.”“Oh you have one.” Mom told her, helpfully. “Everyone has a cholesterol.”
Finally, the doctor came in and attempted to give each of them a good report. I felt like an interpreter at a UN Summit Meeting, between the heavily accented Arabian doctor and the stereophonic babbling Moms. He seemed to feel safer addressing Dora. Especially after Mom told him she didn’t want any more tests done. Ever. “Might I ask why?” He politely asked.
“Because, hey…you gotta die with something, right?”
“That’s right Mrs. Cooper.” He replied with his eye twitching.
Two hours and thirty minutes it took us. One hundred and fifty minutes to essentially learn that smoking will make you flat and that all God’s children have a cholesterol.
But being around these two Moms of mine...with their indomitable spirits and wacky humor...best 2 ½ hours of my week.
Even as they frazzle my brain, they fill my heart, and make my belly ache with laughter. I count it nothing but honor to stand with them as they stand together, united in their fight against the fast fade, connected forevermore through their grandchildren, great-grandchildren and generations of Cooper-Haneys to come.
I didn’t need no stinkin doctor to tell me their hearts were good. Both my Moms have the Very Best Hearts. And my own is grateful for every day they are still with me. Duct tape, bailing wire, and all...they bless my heart, indeed ♥
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