I’m going to interrupt the closet pictures for this funny story of my grandmother. It’ll be worth it, I promise.
To give you a little background, my grandmother is a force to be reckoned with. She has single-handedly caused two divorces, created family holidays of such drama and angst that entire encyclopedias could be written about, and on more than one occasion has called me cold-hearted. The bitch part was implied.
As she’s aged, she is slightly softer towards me. In large part, I believe, because I quit speaking to her for a few years and she knows that I’m more than capable of doing it again. Because she’s softened towards me, and dare I say it, kind most days, I make an effort to go and see her at least once a month or more at the retirement home where she currently resides.
Well, this week my dad called me and told me that the doctor wanted to put some pins in her hip because she had a hairline fracture and they wanted to try and stabilize it for as long as possible. She’s not very steady on her feet these days. Her surgery was yesterday and she came through it with flying colors.
My brother, Little Man and myself went to visit her this morning. She was cheerful, chatty, and in good spirits. We spent some time visiting before my father arrived and then the four of us went to lunch while Grandma had an echo cardiogram done.
We came back into the room to dirty looks.
“Hi Grandma. How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve lost my mind!”
“Nope, it’s still attached to the top of your head, Grandma.”
“Well, I’m here, aren’t I?” She waved her arms around, indicting the room. “I lost my mind and now I’m in the Nut House.”
Dad and I frowned at each other. Brian tuned us out and watched TV. Cole played happily on the floor.
“Grandma, you’re in the hospital.”
She aimed her finger at me. “So! You admit it!”
“Yes, you had surgery yesterday.”
She folded her arms across her chest, frown still in place. “Well, I’m getting out of this place tomorrow. I’m going out of town.”
I was perfectly aware that she was going to be in the hospital for a few days while they monitored her.
“Where are you going?” I asked. Dad was struggling not to laugh.
“To Houston. Scotty and Jimmy will take care of me.”
“I’m sure they would.” I nodded my head.
“Are you laughing at me?” She demanded from my Dad. Neither of us had laughed. Yet.
“No, I’m not laughing, Mom.”
“I want a Coke. In a can.”
“Okay.” He went into the hallway, conversed with the nurse and came back into the room.
“What are you doing?”
“The nurse went to go and get you a coke.”
“I told you to go get me a coke.” She pointed a finger at him. “In a can.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He went out and returned in a few minutes, laughing. With a bottle of coke. “They didn’t have any cans, Mom”
“Are you laughing at me?”
“No, Mom, I’m not laughing.” He smiled.
“Well, I am, Grandma. I’m not gonna lie.” I laughed. She frowned at me. “Have they given you any pain medicine?”
“No. They haven’t given me anything! I hate this hospital!”
“Are you in any pain?”
“No. What would I be in pain for?”
Dad, Brian and I laughed.
“Are you laughing at me?”
“I think you’ve been given some pain medicine, Grandma.”
“Well! I never thought you were a liar, Kimberly, until right now.”