Mama, You Don’t Say!



I had every intention of spending extra time with my mom today but first, I had to make a “quick” detour over to the Army post to pick up some prescriptions.  That quick detour turned into a two hour wait.  My, the pharmacy area was hopping and numbers were not being called as quickly as I had hoped.  Normally, I wouldn’t mind if I had to wait because I consider it such a great benefit to be able to get my prescriptions for free but today, I REALLY wanted to get over to the nursing home before lunch was called and my opportunity for visiting was over.

Posing for Pic


I finally got to Mom’s room and she was sitting in her wheelchair, holding her teddy bear.  They still hadn’t called lunch so we had time to chat.  She was pretty sharp today and in a very good mood.  As we talked, some maintenance men came in with a big easy chair which they put next to the other bed.

“Ooh, Mom,” I said.  “It looks like you’re going to be getting a roommate today.”

“I don’t want a roommate,” she said.

“Why that’s not very nice to say,” I chided her.  “Maybe she’s thinking the same thing.  How do you know she won’t be quite nice?”

“She’s probably an old battle-ax,” Mom replied.

At this point, two nurses had come into the room and were unpacking some family pictures belonging to the new roomie and placing them on the other nightstand.

“Oh, I think you’ll like her,” one nurse said.  “Her husband lived here for many years.”

Mom brightened.  “Her husband’s going to be living here?” she asked.

“Nice try, Mom,” I joked, “but I don’t think you’re going to be allowed to have a male roommate.”

In the meantime, the maintenance men had noticed that one of the footrests on Mom’s wheelchair was loose, allowing one of her legs to keep slipping between the rests and onto the floor.  They were trying to tighten the screws up but concluded that they’d have to remove it and take it down to their workshop to repair.

“We can’t fix this here so we’re going to have to take it downstairs,” they explained.

“What?” Mom said.

“They’re going to have to remove your leg and take it down to their workshop to fix it,” I told her.

“NO!” the nurses said, horrified.

“Well, ok, just as long as I can have it back,” Mom agreed.

“Just joking,” I told Mom.  (I don’t think the nurses “get” my sense of humor even after all these years.)

By this time, the new roommate still hadn’t shown up but lunch had been called so I wheeled Mom down to the lunchroom.  As I said good-bye and headed out the door, she was singing, “My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean” at the top of her lungs.  With any luck, her new roommate will be an alto so that the two of them can make sweet music together.




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