As soon as I convinced her she was NOT in the same hospital where, she was certain, they had tried to kill her and she was NOT being treated by doctors who seemed indifferent to her pain, mom calmed down almost immediately. When she seemed to be resting again, I stepped over to talk with her nurse.
|I don't even like me when I'm angry!|
The thought flashed through my mind that maybe these people weren’t what they seemed. What if they only “acted” like they cared? What if, when I left, mom was faced with questionable medical care? What if, as had happened before, she was given the wrong medication or the wrong dose of medications. What if they ignored her pleas for pain relief, which had also been a problem in the past. These “what if’s” sure seemed to cost me a lot of sleep.
She understood, but I could tell she was looking around the room and trying to focus on somewhere for me to sleep. I really was feeling the need to get out of the hospital for at least a little while, but I didn't think I could get around the bed quick enough to block her view of the tiny couch against the wall.
"OK, I'll get something to eat and be back", I needed food and my sister needed a ride back to the hotel.
|You'd think I would be a math wiz by now!|