STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS

 

Today my blog thoughts turn back to earlier days as I move from middle age into elderly? What a subtle transition! Yet as I live and notice different things somehow it’s fun to organize time into the gentle chaos of today that seems now to be a serious love moment of yesterday. First of all, before I dive in, let me say to all my facebook friends who have said needed prayers for me over the past few days, you people rock! There’s no better gift on earth than a prayer said on behalf of a friend. I believe those prayers definitely go from your hearts to God’s heart and return to me in the form of His healing touch, so much better than a gift wrapped up with a beautiful bow! Thank you all!

Now, however, I want to do a little spoof on the days of yesteryear, so if any young folks ever get around to reading this just hang on.  

Do you all remember when people didn’t feel well how all the friends and family invaded the house so they could watch you be sick? Not only did they do this, but they came armed with food you didn’t want to eat. If you actually had a phone Mom or Dad would eventually take it off the hook so you could get some sleep, or appoint one informant to receive all those calls. People sometimes felt compelled to do something so you might even end up with four or five pairs of new pajamas or coloring books if you were young enough. Neighbors came in and swept the floors and washed the dishes, and sometimes made irritating suggestions about how you might be cared for better.

If you were in the hospital nurses could actually give out minimal wellness reports until they got tired of doing so. People had to be shooed out of someone’s room because there were too many people in there. Besides regular aunts, some great aunts were obliged to check on you until they knew you were up and running. You were never left alone at night, even if you just had the flu.

It was this latter statement of “overnight” that kept me in the hospital after being put through emergency gallbladder surgery. The ONLY reason I stayed overnight was because I live by myself and am blind, which, in itself, warrants a time-out for a separate paragraph here.   

This was a modern mega hospital in the middle of the state’s capital, so I was taken back when questions came at me like:  “Does your dog help you get to your kitchen?” or “Do you need me to hold the cup so you can pee?” One more question was concerning the fact I just could not sleep in the bed, in the chair, in the recliner, or after walking up and down the hall with a nurse holding onto me for dear life. “Would it help if I turned on the lights for you?” she asked. In the morning breakfast was served but the CNA’s were clueless until my daughter came in and said “the eggs are at 6 o’clock, the bacon is laying right over the top of them, the oatmeal which you won’t eat is moved from 3 o’clock and the Jell-O is at 11.”

No matter, these folks were so kind and concerned I tried really hard not to scare them too much, and wish I had felt good enough to help them become more educated about blindness. As usual, Vivi did her own version of that, and doctors left their rounds to come visit the beautiful Labrador who became an instant star.

  Now, four days later my mind rewinds. If I had had gallbladder surgery fifty years ago there would probably be an incision from navel to the right side, I would still be sleeping on morphine, and wouldn’t be able to enjoy all those folks who invaded the house to help. Today, however, I’m down to about one power packed pill every fifteen hours and am wondering if tomorrow I can take Vivi for a short walk around the neighborhood. Four little puncture wounds seem to be healing up nicely.

So, as today my phone has not rung, no texts, no people, I quietly think of my mom sitting in Lexington. I know she is in her chair trying to watch a TV she told me yesterday she can no longer see. Her phone seldom rings. Her family surrounds her, yet neighbors don’t come to sit with her, bring her food or help in her care. Church folks seldom make their way to her door. Is this our future?

As I try to combine the past, the present and the future I hope somehow I can take the best from yesterday and apply it to the tomorrows ahead. I wish I knew how to take all the love from childhood and place it in my mom’s hands today, or take the time from a lonely Sunday afternoon and spread love over a heart like spreading peanut butter onto a slice of bread. There seems to be no real point to this blog, or is there? Maybe it’s just experiencing time passing.  Maybe it’s missing the mom who took care of us as children. Maybe it’s punctuated by my next-door neighbor who asked me how I was and walked away as I said “I just had gallbladder surgery.” Maybe it’s just too much Oxycodone. I do believe, however, if I put this into a capsule for thousands of years the one thing that would still be real is the feelings of love that will never become outdated.