No where to hide

So- it goes without saying that mom has had a recent stay in the hospital and is now home, but learning to live her life in a different capacity.  One that involves in home oxygen, no more climbing around on ladders hanging holiday decorations and less hard physical work.  She is adapting beautifully.

That being said- let me just enlighten you on what it is like to be in the same room with your mother as she interacts with doctors.

When we arrive at the emergency room last week, mom approaches the window and waits.  A man looks up and asks if he can help her.  She replies "Well, you haven't asked me yet".  Oh dear heavens. 

Then, while waiting for the attendant to photocopy her whatever it was, she turns to me and rather loudly asks if I think all of these young men wear their pants so low so that they have an excuse to hold their penis.  It was really loud.  Really loud.  And being that we chose to go to the hospital in da' hood- there were lots of young penis holding young men.

Later in the same evening, we were in a little ER room with a doctor.  The only saving grace was that she didn't manage to call him 'a cute young thing' to his face.  But mind you she didn't mind sharing that with me.  This doctor would respond "Oh boy" to anything that was of concern to him. 
Are you a smoker?........oh boy
You have an oncologist?.........oh boy
You live alone?.............oh boy
Each time.  Each and every time.  Mom would put on her 'stern mother' face and say "Well what's that supposed to mean?". 

I have found myself replying 'oh boy' to a lot this week.  Somehow it helps.  I understand why he uses that term.

After Dugie Howser left the room, another doctor- the daddy doctor (probably not the term they use in the hospital, but you get my drift)- came in.  He already had everything he needed from the cute young one, so he was just sharing his next step.  Mom, on the other hand, wanted to start from the beginning (no kidding- when she had pneumonia as a child and one time 20 years ago when she cleaned a chicken coop) and tell him her entire life story........again.  He began speaking over her and she says "Wait a minute there Jazzmo".  no kidding.

If she were one of my children, I would have stopped her in her tracks and spouted off things about respect and politeness.  But she is my mom.

So instead I just smiled at him, wrinkled my nose and tilted my head.  Jazzmo pulled up a chair.

I'm so grateful that she is home and doing so much better.  I think the doctors are too.