HELEN AND JOHN

I went to visit my mother at the nursing home, and there in the room was this fellow sitting in a corner by the other bed. The man caught me by surprise as I threw my jacket down on the chair since Mom wasn’t back from her rehab yet. I waved at him and he smiled back.

Remembering his last name on the doorway before I entered I introduced myself to him and asked him if he was from the Bellport area his name sounding familiar.  He came over to me with his hand held out to shake it and I did.

“No, I don’t know anyone from this area by that name” he said to me.

He was a short man, maybe 5’1” and about 82 or 83 years old. His hair was grey and he had on a maroon sweat. I asked him how his what I assumed to be wife was doing and he lit up.

“She’s doing great! I came in and she wasn’t here, I figured she was taken somewhere and I looked for her and she was in the rehab room! Her eyes were open and she was moving!” he said.

“Why is she here?” I asked.

A sad look came over the man’s face, and he looked down and then like someone had wound him up gave me both a physical and verbal explanation of what happened.

“She fell down 7 steps, her head hit the red brick floor and she injured her shoulder!” he said to me. “Her brain moved in her head, causing blood to accumulate on her brain and she has terrible headaches! She can’t keep her eyes opened. The doctor wanted to drill holes in her head, maybe cut it open and work on her brain. Then they wanted to give her morphine and I said no, that stuff is no good, NO good.”  Just then Mom returned from her rehab and I broke off the conversation as his wife returned from rehab also.

Out of the corner of my eye I watched as his daughter came to visit while I was talking to my mom. Dad seemed to take charge of everything, the lunch tray that arrived, her comfort even her position on the bed. He looked for more blankets as the nurse walked in to give his wife some medication.

Mamma was sitting in her bed with her eyes closed and a damp clothe over her eyes, as she complained about the light giving her the headaches that she was constantly suffering from. The nurse reached across the bed and administered the meds and Mamma made this face that could peel paint. As she was making the face, her husband started to laugh.

“What are you laughing about?” she intoned.

“You made this funny face when you tasted the medicine!” he replied.

‘WELL IT AIN’T FUNNY!” she snapped.

The poor man was visibly hurt, shrinking away from her, not knowing what to do or say. I could feel the hurt that he was trying to find some moment of relief for both his wife and himself. He obviously loved her very much and she was very angry with him. I guess I can’t blame the woman for being upset, even angry, but she was biting the only hand that held any sunshine for her.