Deep and grateful thanks
to all of you who sent wishes, prayers, and hugs. I am humbled but cheered by
your concern. I am still in the hospital, with all signs and symptoms steadily
improving, but I will be here another night. The cardiologist told me this
morning I could go home only if I took the monitor and IV with me. Guess I’ll
stay.
I have been worried about
Sophie, who feels abandoned. When a friend went by the cottage to pick up some
things for me, she said glared at her as if to say, “You’re not my mother. What
have you done with my mother?” She was comforted by having Megan all night, and
this evening Jacob took her in the main house for a while. But in the picture
above, she still looks a little cautious.
Meanwhile, I’ve been
treated to the best of medical care and can’t help thinking back to the fifties
when I worked in what was then a state-of-the-art hospital. Yesterday, a
technician did a scan of my lungs (no, not an x-ray), and told me it would go
to Dallas to be read. Everything is digital and electronic I remember food
service when there was one choice for dinner, and every patient was served
around five. Now, there’s a menu, and you can order it twelve hours a day.
I had been thinking
before all this happened about the goodness of people Some wonderful stories
are coming out of Houston and the surrounding area. The owner who opened his
furniture stores to evacuees, the marooned bakers who kept making pan dulce for
twenty-four hours and used 4400 lbs of flour—the bread went to various
shelters; the people who have welcomed evacuated horses—and their owners—to
their ranches.
I’ve personally been
touched by kindness the last twenty-four hours. When there is so much
unfortunate focus on race in this country, I couldn’t help but reflect my
caretakers have included two of apparent Arab descent, two of Asian background,
and a handful each of Anglo and African American. There was no
differentiation—they all work together in harmony and they were uniformly kind
and caring to me. I have seen nothing but the best of Texans.
6 comments:
So much love to you, Judy -- and to all the Texas heroes, so, so many of them. xo Mary Jo
So glad you're better, Judy. I hope poor Sophie has her mom back soon.
Every calamity comes with its balm.
So true, anonymous. Thank you.
I'm happy your stay in the hospital has been relatively a good one. When I was in Harris with my stroke I had a bad experience with some of the staff. I'll be damned if I go back to Harris again.
Oh, I'm glad to think of you heading home soon, and I'm sorry you had to spend the weekend in the hospital. How lovely that you could appreciate your care, and your caregivers though. We all are more likely to step up and do our best when someone appreciates our work. :) May Sophie have you back soon, and may you feel much, much better!
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