All Is Well
Emerging from the fog of morphine, I remember in the afternoon, a day after my surgery, that Mom exists and I should call her.
"Hi, Mom. How are you?" I begin.
"Well, I'm fine but how are you? How was your surgery?"
Bravo! She knows what's happening.
"I'm in the hospital. Everything went fine, and I'm going home today."
"That's good, dear. I love you."
Wow! Appropriate responses. She's having a good day.
"I have to lie in bed for a week or more... I won't be coming to see you for a while."
"I miss you," she says, unable to keep the focus on me. "Things are so boring here."
"But Emily is coming to visit you, maybe tomorrow. I'll call you again tomorrow."
I hang up and drift off, thinking only of rest and sleep. I have no idea when I will get to Ocean View Assisted Living again--not until I am good and ready.