More News from the Cot

Mom's still in the hospital. I took a night off last night and stayed with my sister and niece. And the cats. And the puppy. And the insane Bichon who believes her back right leg is out to get her. Seriously. She'll be eating and catch a glimpse of the leg in her peripheral. Apparently believing the leg is trying to snatch some of her kibble, she attacks it ferociously. It takes her forever to have a meal.

As you may know (since everyone who reads this is a personal friend), The Princess has severe asthma that is triggered by cat and dog dander. I also have a Snow White aura that attracts all animals, so at one point last night I was unintentionally spooning the Bichon, the puppy was laying on his back snoring in the crook of my neck while I attempted to deter the skittish cat from joining the party by making sudden movements with my foot. By the time CVS opened this morning and I was able to get some Primatene Mist, I was coughing so hard I almost wrecked my rental Kia.Back in the hospital, I'm still dealing with snoring (as well as Vegas-like bells and whistles going off continuously), but at least I can breathe.

Since the last post on Mom, we've had a new development. While I was struggling for oxygen beneath the adorable Shih-Tsu puppy, Mom, against everyone's orders, attempted to get to the bathroom alone. And that's how we added broken wrist to the list of maladies she's carrying around. The story is that she was attempting to ring the nurse's bell -- but only after she had gotten herself into a sitting position and became dizzy. Crash, boom, mangled wrist. Surgery is scheduled for next Thursday.

A plus is that I'm adding to my skill set. I have become quite adept at the typical hospital tasks. I can work the hydraulic tray like a pro, I know where the kitchen is on every floor and I have memorized the cafeteria schedule. (They cater!) I've even got an in with security since I graduated high school with the night supervisor. I can dump the potty pot without splashing and I am keeping track of the urine accumulation for the staff.

If there is a Smoking Baby in the airport lounge in the sky (and we know there is), he will lift me from my Dorminy Memorial prison, heal my mother and get me the fuck back to Brooklyn.

Where Did She Go?

Hey fans --

You may have noticed the title change and the absence of HRH. It's a sad day.

The web address will remain the same in homage to HRH and her brilliant contributions in the past, however, as per her royal request, she will no longer be posting. I changed the format to reflect the end of the HRH era.

I will miss her. You will miss her.

I will do my best to carry on because now, I'm posting for two.

xoxoxo
TP

You Look Just Like My Daughter

Hi people. I've been away on a job in Florida for the last few days -- that is until I got a phone call from my sister.

Mama's in the hospital again. I found her in the kitchen floor around 5:30 this morning. She's got five staples in her head and we think she may have broken her hip.

I think my exact response was, "Okay. Um. Okay."

I told Amy to keep me posted on what was up, but after letting it sink in, I realized that I had to get home. I talked to my co-workers who were absolutely amazing. I said I needed to leave and before I could even explain the entire story, Three (my co-worker's nickname) said, "Just disappear. We'll take care of everything." I love him so much.

I packed my bags, handed over my hotel key and headed to Hertz. Seven hours later, I arrive in Fitzgerald and find a very distraught sister and a thrilled niece (V loves me so much). Sister A tells recounts the entire episode including the complete collapse Mom had after A tried to get her off the floor and the frantic, screaming phone call to 911 she made because she thought Mom, who was at that point in a pile on the floor and unresponsive, was dead.

911: 911, What's your emergency?
A: I found my Mom passed out in the floor and when I tried to get her up she went completely limp and now she won't talk to me.
911: What happened to her?
A: I don't know. I woke up and found her like this.
911: I need to know something, honey.
A: All you need to know is my damn address. Now get the hell out here!

Even in a crisis, my sister can be quite sassy.

Long story short ... I'm writing this from a cot in my mom's hospital room in Fitzgerald.

As you all know, Mom has been sick for quite a while and right now things aren't getting any better. She's been on so much medication since I've been here that she's either bitching at me because I shouldn't be here and A shouldn't have told anyone or bothered anyone about her being in the hospital, or she's telling me that I look just like her daughter and that her dead Uncle Jimmy dropped by, but didn't bring a present. (Stingy bastard.)

So, what is going on exactly?

Beats me. All I know is occasionally Mom decides to unplug and disconnect all of the tubes and monitors and then announces that she's going home. Last night she planned to roll there in a wheelchair. This is the same woman who I had to physically lift from her bed to place her on the potty seat and then reverse the move to get her back in bed. (The picture of health, my 5'11" mother weighs 117 lbs.)

So, here I sit (thank you Dorminy Memorial for your wireless internet -- apparently there is one spot in the tri-county area where I can make contact with the real world), waiting for Mom's Atavan to wear off and see who I get to deal with tonight.