somepinkflowers

a new normal starring julia roberts

Last night I dreamed about Julia Roberts. It is no wonder, really, what with everything that has been happening lately. Honestly, I feel great knowing that I was asleep long enough to even have a dream.

I was sleeping at home in my own bed which is cause enough for a joyous celebration. Not every one in my family can make this claim.

My daddy is still in the hospital.

You know how much I love traveling but sleeping sitting up in a hospital~chair does not compare with sleeping here  or here.

Not that I am complaining.

I figured out the trick to hospital~chair sleeping is to pretend you are on an airplane. The hospital~chair cranks back only so far--just like in an airplane!--but the great part is there is no one else in front leaning their head back into my little space.

In the hospital late at night the lights are dimmed, bells ding and dong, there is the occasional intercom message, and someone nearby is snoring. It reminds me of a 10 hour international flight.

Wearing my wrinkled day~clothes and socks  I pad to the restroom in the middle of the night.  I don't have to wake anyone else up as I slip out of my seat. That is one of the nicest things about hospital~chair sleeping. I am in a row of one.

The bad part is that I do not wake up here.

After the emergency of  the situation my family settled into a routine, a new normal.

My sweet mother has been Nurse Nancy on the morning shift most days and I have no idea from where she finds the strength. My loving sister has been working on her nursing badge every evening between 6 and 11 after her regular day job. I thank God 10,000 times for my sister.

Me? I travel over there and fill in mid-days and afternoons mostly. No two days are quite the same as the weeks melt into each other. We try to find some laughter in our over-lapping shift rotations.

The television, sitting high on its wire perch on the wall, keeps us all company. The stations are limited but we click between the presidential election news, the cooking channel and the movie channel, thankful for the diversion from the mundane.

We have seen the presidential and the vice~presidential debates several times, every sentence dissected, discussed, and translated. We have watched numerous chiefs slice sausages, chop onions, crack eggs and whisk batter. 

We have watched Pretty Woman more times than I can even tell you.

The first time I watched Pretty Woman almost 20 years ago I thought it was so cute. A modern day Cinderella, of sorts. Happy endings were  Buy One, Get One Free in those carefree days.

Folks get so wrapped up in the hopefulness of Pretty Woman that they almost forget Julia Roberts is a hooker.  Julia is so southern girl sweet you feel that hooking must not be that bad.

Right from the start everyone knows Julia is going to get her man. This knowledge makes us all smile with happiness. We are so clever to see the writing on the wall. True love will win over odds.

I certainly never thought that one day my father and I would sit together watching a movie which featured  a hooker. I certainly never thought I would be sitting in a hospital~chair while my daddy was in the bed tethered to an IV while we watched a movie which featured a hooker.

I did not see that coming.

It just goes to show how you can never figure out life ahead of time, which I  suppose is just as well.

One day this past week the movie channel played Pretty Woman back-to-back, just in case you missed it the first time. I thought this was extremely thoughtful on the movie channel's part. Rather like Buy One, Get One Free.

Plus, I guess most people never get enough of Julia Roberts.

On this particular day my  nursing shift started in the middle of the first movie showing. Somewhere between the 137th time my dad asked, "When am I going home?" and the 219th time he asked, "Where is your mother?" I realized I had, at one time, owned those very same city shorts that Julia was wearing. Somewhere back in 1990 Julia and I must have shopped at the same store. Maybe it was The Limited.

At least I never, ever had her Really Big Hair.

My dad does not care what we watch as he is busy trying to cheat on the crossword puzzle. He uses the newspaper from Tuesday to find the answers for the Monday puzzle if he gets stumped.

I am thrilled that he has the presence of mind to even try to cheat. Sometimes I try to help him out here and there.

38 across-------->8 letter word for Jerry Garcia fan.

My dad never would have gotten that one on his own. When he discovered my answer fit the spaces he was so proud!

"Deadhead?" he asked. "Deadhead? Is that right? Are you sure? Well, OK."

When my mom wandered in from the hospital cafe with a small box of cheerios, she smiled to see what we were watching.

"Oh, this is my favorite part!" my mom cooed. "I looooove how Julia tells the shop~girl 'Big mistake. Big. Huge.'"

So there we sat, eating cereal and watching Julia Roberts kissing on Richard Gere. My mom and my dad and me in the hospital.

Three days later I walk in and there they are, my parents watching Pretty Woman again.
I have such luck!

The movie had just started.

My dad was sitting up in the hospital~chair looking all the world like a first~class world~traveler, blanket tucked across his bony, cold knees, ready to fly right out of this place, to fly right on home.

My mom was sipping on some Nestea.

I crawled into my daddy's hospital bed. I powered up the head part until I could see Julia's toothy grin and we all settled in to watch the happy ending.

Then, wouldn't you know it,  last night I dreamed Julia Roberts was my daddy's nurse. It is no wonder, really. Even in my sleep, ever hopeful, I am looking for the happy ending.

some how you would think you would know

Maybe this has happened to you but I hope not. I most certainly hope it never happens to you.

Let us say that you are at work and your loving sister calls on the telephone and says, "somepinkflowers, we are all at the hospital now."

Your heart races as you wonder------> Who? Mother? Daddy? Who? Which?

You would much rather it be you.

Then you and your racing heart race to the hospital with racing breath and racing prayers. Every thing racing, RACING but in slow motion.

Like when you fall from a bicycle or out of a tree. Moving quickly but slowly at the same time. Tumbling but racing and trying to hold things together, you move.

Trying to keep your hands on the wheel at 10 and 2, trying to keep the faith in your heart, you move on and on.

So that is what happened to me last week. And this is where my family has been.

My daddy  had to have emergency surgery. And it was more than was expected.

The doctors and nurses have been stellar. A marriage of professionalism and compassion.

Were it not for my dad's constant but unwelcome companion we would have rested easier. All of us.

"When am I going home?" my dad asks every minute he is awake.

"Where is your mother?" he asks when my mom goes home to rest.

If we had a penny for every time my dad has asked these two questions, there would be no national debt, no bail~out needed for anyone in the whole wide world.

There would be pennies raining from heaven for all God's children, I am here to tell you.

"When am I going home?" my dad asks as he tries to remove the IV from his arm.

"Where is your mother?" he asks as he tries to get up out of the bed to go find her.

Still, in between all the commotion and the questions, things are moving along better this week. We are not out of the woods yet, but we are on the correct, tear-littered path.

Oh and thank God for comic relief, is what I say! Thank God for loving family and understanding friends. Thank God for all the good stuff that comes at you from nowhere, too, and most of all, thank God for God.

Thanks ever~so and I most certainly hope this never, ever happens to you.
{But if it does, let folks know so they can be there for you. You might be surprised.}