I am totally knackered. Last evening at work, I got one phone call after another. The pharmacy, the doctors, the Kidney Center, the creepy respiratory therapist (most of them are saving angels, and very nice- but this one…. Grrrrr!) Then, at midnight, when I was heading for my coat and home, I heard, “Joanna, you have another phone call.” I asked who it was, and she said, “A woman.” Well, that eliminated 50% of the population. It was another nursing unit calling to tell me that my aunt had been admitted. Horror struck, I scuttled up there, to find her grumbling in her bed. The ambulance folk were still in the hall with their gurney (or “trolley” as Colin would say.) " You must be the niece,” they said. “She’s been waiting for you.” She was mad that she was there. They didn’t know anything. Why couldn’t she get something to eat. What was the matter with this bed. Why did she have to wear this monitor. How did they expect her to sleep. Why did they have to give her a CT scan when she just had one last week (for something unrelated and on another part of her body, as I pointed out.) They thought she was having a stroke. She wasn’t having a stroke. What was the matter with them. She knew more about it than they did. A low-salt diet!! Blech! What did they think she was! They just went through the same things every time she went. Look at this cheap toilet paper! What sort of joint is this! She was just going to leave! What was the matter with them. Etc., etc., etc. I was relieved, and could tell that she was feeling fine. In the morning, seemingly a few minutes after I got to sleep, she called me to tell me to come to get her. I said in an hour or two after I get some sleep. I turned the message machine down, I thought, but actually, I had turned it up. I just drifted off when my other aunt called. I told her about the complaining, and I think she was glad she hadn’t been there. She told me about a vacation to Hawaii that she had taken Dakki on, and Dakki had complained the whole time about every single thing. Aunt Pauline thought, “Never again!” Then later, she heard Dakki regaling someone with tales of their fabulous vacation and the wonderful time she had. Mystified, Pauline decided that grumbling must have been part an essential part of the fun. Update: Dakki is doing fine, full of vim and vinegar.
2 comments:
I didn't know you used the word knackered in the USA and yes I would call it a trolley. We call the ones at the supermarket, supermarket trolleys!
So who is that in the picture? One of the aunts? I guess the one not in the hospital?
The picture is of the aunt who was in the hospital. It was taken a few months ago. She is fine now, thank goodness. It was a mysterious incident and whatever it was, got better quickly.
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