And we don't mean "ravioli".
I can't take credit for the clever ravioli comment. That was my mother.
Disclaimer: I'm feeling a little fed up and sassy today and it might come across in my writing. Best read with a sense of humour.
Doctor Fehlings came by yesterday and blew up my whole "three day rule" theory.
Yesterday was day 4 post op. We should be out of the woods. So we were blind sided.
Rehab.
That's the "R" word.
I'll rewind a little bit. Today started as any other day, I woke up and went to work and mom and I texted back and forth about the subpar hospital food.
On the other side of the city the physiotherapist dropped by to visit mom and do an assessment. They did the stairs. This is an important point and comes back later in the story.
So I go about my day at work. Dad offered me a "night off" of the hospital and I told him don't worry about it, I'm looking forward to coming in. Rookie mistake.
I'm kidding. I love spending time with my mother. Even if it has to be in the hospital. But Dad and I have been spelling eachother off lately. He does the 6am shift to catch the doctors rounding and I do the evening/after work shift. The only thing is that the last two nights have been eventful. There was the MRI/nurse fainting shift, then there was last night...which, well let's just say that made me wish we could have just done the MRI again. Dad said dealing with those two night are his Father's Day present for the next two years.
Back to last night. I should have known how things were going to go when I showed up and the dinner mom was served was yesterday's lunch left overs. I really should have clued in when the replacement was a cheese sandwitch. Turns out neurosurgery takes the edge off an appetite but today the steroids kicked in.
Half an hour later mom and I are in bed eating take out. Mom commented on how nice my work outfit was, but it was so warm inher room that I had to take my nice top off, we were lazing around so I figured my tank top was appropriate.
Then in barges Dr. Fehlings. Dressed to the 9's. I felt embarrassed that I was in my tank top but thought it might be obvious if I put my shirt back on. Oh, for those of you who don't know, I have a professional relationship with Dr. Fehlings, he supervised my undergraduate thesis and we are in the works of publishing the results together.
He cuts right to the chase. "Let's see it, get up Maureen", he teases as mom gets out of bed to show him her progress walking. He razes her about how the fellows were texting him all weekend, "We should know by now, that's just Maureen!" He said.
Now I hope you were paying attention earlier because this is where the stairs come back. He asks her about her physio assessment today. Mom told him about how the stairs were a struggle. The right leg doesn't want to engage.
"Well you might need neuro rehab then"
The "r" word.
This is where mine and moms account of what happened next differs.
I called my sister Meghan and said: Dr. Fehlings, despite his original intention to discharge mom to home, might send her to rehab now. He's going to sleep on it and decide tomorrow.
Mom texted her sister "call me before I lose it" and three seconds later was fed up with the long wait so called her herself. She said: "Mary if I hadn't have cried in his shoes I'd be in rehab right now".
The real mystery to me though is how when mom called dad to tell him the news it somehow turned into a duet rendition of Parisise by the dashboard light by meatloaf, over the phone.
(For those who aren't familiar: https://youtu.be/C11MzbEcHlw)
It'll make more sense when you recall my version, then hear the line "let me sleep on it".
Here's the best part, when my mom started singing my dad didn't miss a beat. He joined right in. That's how I know they were meant for eachother, or they both have hospital psychosis. Then they discussed Dr. Fehlings dance moves to accompany the song. Mom thought he was more of a John Travolta type than a Meatloaf type.
It wasn't laughter right away. There were tears while mom called her sister, and I knew this was an emergency situation so ran down and bought two bags of chips. It was ugly for a while.
I knew it was ok though when after a moment of silence, mom said: "when did Dr. Fehlings get so handsome ?".
Anyways I guess the moral of the story is you never know what life will throw at you, but it's always important to keep laughing. Despite last nights bad news, mom and I had fun. We laughed until we cried after we cried until we laughed.
But tomorrow, Dad is taking the night shift.
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