I haven’t had a chance to work on much due to the fact that my mother has been having some health issues, but it’s true that having a creative outlet can save you. I have rediscovered myself as a tentative writer, and jotted this down in hospital.
***
Mom is going in for an angiogram tomorrow, but she has one more night at the hospital before then. Her new roommate is here now, and she is a sad story indeed. She cries out for help, begs the nurses to get off of her, and calls out to a God that just doesn’t hear her. My observation is more about Don, her faithful husband. The nurses ask him many things, and he answers with a sweet little story for each question.
"How are you affiliated to the patient? "
He smiles softly and looks at the shriveled woman in bed. "She's my wife. We're separated, not divorced." As the nurse continued to fill out the paperwork, he continued, "We drove each other crazy, so we separated to get our own places, but still only saw each other exclusively. It really saved us."
With callous, the nurse continued down her list on the medical form. "She doesn’t have earrings? They need to be removed for Chemo, but she is not wearing them."
"No, I took them out for her at the last hospital when she threatened to just throw them away. They were my 10th anniversary gift to her. We went to Hawaii, and I got her some genuine pearls." He slowly looks down, as if he can go back 15 years, but to when she was happy, and healthy.
"Any other things we should know about?"
"Oh, she has upper and lower dentures. Her teeth were knocked out in a car accident when she was 11."
Small things like that don't seem like much, but he says them like each one is held close to his heart. In the silence of the room, he turned to me sadly, asking me about mom. I told him the details and he nodded, smiling.
"I'm glad for you. That’s not too bleak. I'm going to lose my wife of 25 years in a month." No judgement. No hard glances. No anger or hatred in his voice. Just stating a fact. He looked genuinely happy that I would not experience the same daunting situation he was in. I didn't tell him about Dad.
He told me that she had that huge tumor, and that she was here because she broke her hip tripping over her oxygen tank. She had been feeling better, dispite the debilitating chemo. She insisted that they go to church. She fell hard onto the concrete, and Don brought her right to the emergency room.
In 4 nights, he had gotten 6 hours of sleep. With his wife situated, he came over to me and whispered, "I'm going to go home and get some rest. I'm sorry if she makes alot of noise. I promise once she's asleep, she will sleep through the night."
As he gathered his things, he turned to her and whispered again, his voice thick with emotion.
"I love you." He wiped his eyes on his jacket's faded sleeve, and walked out the door.
And she will continue to cry out for help, or for Don, or for god's help. And I will hear her, and be ready to call the nurse is she needs me. I can do that for you, Don.
***
I think that I will make this a comic, since it is such a powerful story, and almost fits with the PL theme for this month. We will see. If I do, I'm going to have to take my time, and make a tribute to anyone who has ever lost a great love.
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