"... ah, yes. Kitchen? I'd like to have the Creme du Poulet Broth, Iced Tea, and for dessert, a slushy... and make that cherry."

March 25, 2017 - Saturday morning

64 degrees/partly cloudy/calm winds

Terre Haute, Indiana

After a small setback late Friday afternoon, Mom appears to be back on the fast track to recovery. Seems her heart decided to begin racing once again and after careful monitoring during the evening hours, a procedure was performed just before midnight to shock the heart back into a more sensible rhythm. 

* Saturday afternoon - After visiting with the nurse at the hospital this morning, I learned that I'd misunderstood what happened in the middle of the night. Mom did not have the procedure. Her heart went back into regular rhythm on it's own. Either way, it's all good.

I just got off the phone with her nurse and he said she was MUCH better, had rested comfortably, and reported that her colon had FINALLY awakened and was working. 

Friday was a day of joy in room 328. I walked into Mom's room and quickly did a U turn. Seems she was not only up and out of her bed, she was giving herself a bath. The NG tube protruding from her nose, the plastic thing that had become a semi permanent part of her body, had been removed making Mom look like... well, Mom. 

I was sitting in the waiting room next door, when the next thing I knew, Mom had finished her bath and was sprinting down the hall with a nurse in tow. I was relegated to cart boy, in charge of making certain the bag of fluids connected to the IV in her arm kept up. 

Mom was given permission to chose anything off the hospital menu, anything at all, as long as it came in liquid form. Since her last meal and drink of water had been Saturday night, even the lowly chicken broth tasted heavenly.

I spent the morning at the hospital then made my way to Sam's Club around noontime. First came a tour of the sample ladies. 

I pretended to ignore them at first, making the rounds and mentally registering what each had to offer. I certainly didn't want to get my entree' eaten before the appetizer, let alone accidentally begin with the dessert.

In the end, I feasted on salmon, sausage, lemon cake, and a fifi something or the other that was horrible.

I wasn't full. Hmm, another round? I particularly enjoyed the lemon cake, so I went back with a disguised voice, hoping she wouldn't recognize my face. 

She did. I was busted, but I put on my best smile, complete with the double sets of dimples, and complimented her Sample Lady outfit. 

It worked. I got my second piece.

Still not full, I made my way to the famous Chez Sam's, known by the ordinary people as the deli, where everyone who is anyone in Terre Haute dines. I enjoyed my favorite faire, the $1.50 weenie and Coke platter complete with sauerkraut and onions. 

The afternoon was once again spent at the hospital. Mom received flowers that made her room smell like spring.

Her eyes were beginning to droop. It was time to walk back to the apartment. With a kiss and a couple of "I love you's," I was out of there.

I had a moment of profound sadness yesterday. Seems an elderly lady down the hall passed away. The stopping of her heart caused bells and alarms to sound and nurses and doctors from everywhere sprinted to her aid, all for naught.

I'll never forget the sight of seeing her husband and daughter crying, trying to support each other, to comprehend what had just happened. I had to get out of there. Hospitals are meant for healing, not dying. Unfortunately, even the best doctors can't always perform miracles.

I've seen plenty of death, especially in arctic, hypothermia, drownings, plane crashes, suicides, but it was the husband and daughter who I felt so sorry for. The mom and wife had moved on to leave her loved ones behind to mourn. I mourned for their mourning. 

The fresh air outside revived my spirits. With the temperature in the mid seventies, I hopped the fence along the golf course and made my way home. 

Plop.

A golf ball?

I looked around but couldn't see anything.

Plop.

What the *%#!

Was someone aiming at me? At best, my sight extends for about twenty feet ahead, but I couldn't see anyone.

After doing an about face and flying over the fence, I learned from the golf course warden that I'd been cutting across the driving range. Someone had told him there was a person who was in everyone's way and he'd sped out to intercept me in his official warden cart, complete with a flashing warden light. 

Pretty impressive. 

I was busted again for the second time in one afternoon.

With golf balls raining down all around me, I cleared that four-foot high fence with a few feet to spare.

I believe I'll alter my route today. It's time to explore new uncharted areas of the golf course's perimeter. Better yet, maybe I'll just walk completely around it and forget any shortcuts.

I met my dinner dates at 4:30 for supper.

Phyllis, Marion, Glenna, Marty
You'll notice not one, but two containers of salted caramel ice cream to go at the closest place setting. I need to keep my nourishment up you know.

I especially enjoy and love my dining companions. All, Mom's very best friends, are sweethearts. Not every one of Mom's buddy's are pictured, but the group ranges in age from the mid-eighties to a hundred, depending on who shows up for supper. 

Marion (left) pushes a four-wheeled walker, sort of the sedan version, but Glenna has the racing model, a sporty three-wheeled bolt of lightening that, literally, sprints down the hall. I'm fairly certain that under that sweet grandma exterior lies a wild granny who thrives on rushes of extreme adrenaline.

I spent some quiet time, alone, on the veranda last night. 

I did a little praying, a bit of guffawing and sniffling, even some cursing, as I'd just found out Mom's heart was out of rhythm again. I wondered how much more an almost ninety year old woman could take, but then, God reminded me, He's the one who makes the decisions, not me.

The phone rang at midnight. It was my sister saying she'd talked with Mom's nurse and the heart procedure went very well. After shocking it, the ticker was once again back on track. 

I didn't sleep very well after. The body was willing, but the mind wouldn't let it rest. 

FLASH FLASH FLASH - JUST IN!!

I just received a call from Mom and she was so excited. One of her three or four doctors had been in to see her this morning and said, "As far as I'm concerned, you can go home."

Mom knows that she also has to be cleared by her heart doctor and there are other circumstances that might dictate her release, but it's the most positive news we've had during this past week of roller coaster rides.

Mom was also excited that she's been given permission to begin eating normal food and when I talked with her, was waiting for her favorite breakfast goodie, an English muffin. She told me to not be in any hurry to get to the hospital today, that she was going to take a bath and do whatever it is people do in the mornings on the third floor cardio unit. 

So, this morning, we have reason to celebrate. It's not a done deal yet, but it's getting closer. 

I'd write more, but there's an apartment to clean. I asked Mom to give me plenty of notice before she's released so I can get this place back in order. I've been telling Mom that the girls and I have had wild parties nightly complete with loud music and that there are beer bottles and cigarette butts lying all around the place. 

Mom just chuckled in that watch it buddy way that I've heard since the day I was born. 

Yep, she's feeling better.

Wild parties or no, there are some socks and other underthings I should probably pick up off the floor should she be able to come home. Heart trouble and colon cancer aside, Mom still walks tall and carries a big stick.

After all, a man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Four generations later, Ivy is enjoying corn on the cob.