Another Morning

 

She reaches for her pale pink robe that hangs over the side of the hospital bed. Last year’s birthday gift is all she can remember. She likes how soft it feels on her stiff body, especially on chilly mornings. Every day is cold now. She tries to pull on the robe but no longer remembers how. She slinks back under her covers distracted by a tapping sound at the window. It is the sparrows now that greet her. Her children’s visits are sparse. She misses the warmth of company and familiar faces.  She hears a kind voice in the distance over the chatter of birds. It is the nursing assistant coming for her.

“Good morning Genevie , I’ve come to take you to breakfast.”

The face looks vaguely familiar. She looks at her lapel and reads her name out loud, “Bobbie.” Then mumbles something that sounds like good morning back.

The alarm goes off in the distance. It is time to get ready for work. She wonders where her purse is and what she did with the car keys, when the nursing assistant reaches for her arm and helps her dress. The spell is over. Nothing looks right. The yellow walls and pink roses are not hers. She starts to tremble and curse.

“It’s okay, once you have a little breakfast and your morning tea you will feel better.”

She takes a hold of the walker and starts to move down the hall. She hears someone call her name. A name she knew once upon a time. She was in nursing school and the professor was calling on her during an anatomy lecture. She had stayed up all night with her roommate Bobbie preparing for an exam on the skeletal system. She could identify all two-hundred and six bones.

In the dining room she sips her tea. It is cool on her tongue and sweet. It is not like her English tea, served hot with lemon.

Would you like more sweet tea with your peach cobbler?” The nursing assistant dangles a pitcher of tea over the table.

She grabs the pitcher from the nursing assistant and laughs.

It is near closing time at the college pub. It is the last call for beer, and she is watching Howard from across the bar.

“One more for the team!” she calls out.

The cold tea spills onto her lap and across the table.

“ I think you have had enough,” the nursing assistant’s tone sounds impatient.

“ It’s time we take you back to your room and perhaps a change of clothing is in order.”

She wipes her chin and moves her half -eaten plate away from her.

“I haven’t eaten yet,” she exclaims.

“Would you like to finish?” The nurse scoots her chair closer to the table.

“Where are my keys? Have you seen Bobbie?”

The nursing assistant does not reply.

She passes unfamiliar people sitting in wheelchairs. She wonders if they are all her patients. The nursing assistant walks her back to her room.

“Would you like to watch a little TV? Or sit with the others?”

“I need to go home. My children will be waiting. They will be at the bus stop soon.”

The nursing assistant points to a chair near her room.

“There is the bus stop. You can wait there until your children arrive.”

She sits and thinks of her twins. Joey and Sam are eight and in the second grade. They are a little behind in math. All they talk about is baseball. She has a surprise for them. She has  new bat and ball for their ninth birthday.

“I’m tired,” she says, her hands folded on her lap.

“Do you want to go back home?” The nursing assistant asks.

She whispers and closes her eyes. She is home in her bed. The blue curtains sway in the cool breeze. She is warm under their down comforter. She is wrapped in Howard’s arms and her twins are asleep. When she opens her eyes, it is still morning.

She glances at the yellow walls with pink roses that taunt her. She reaches for her robe. It is not where she put it. She calls in vain for Bobbie.

The nursing assistant finds her. She is curled up on the floor. She doesn’t remember hitting the floor. Her hips hurt. Her mouth is sour. Little drops of blood fall onto her chin. Bobbie gently swabs her lip with gauze and calls for help.

In minutes she is whisked away. Her tired chilled body is draped with warm blankets on the gurney. A worried face looks down at her. She smiles, her beloved has found her. Howard was taking her home.

In the emergency room white coats attend to her. She opens her eyes. She searches for Bobbie.

She cries out in pain when she hears a familiar voice. It is her son Sam.

“Is she going to be alright?”

“We are not sure. She hit her head and broke her hip. She has a concussion and will need to be closely observed.”

“What happened?” Sam asks, searching for a sign that she would be okay.

“She fell out of bed.”

“They should be monitoring her closer.”

“We are doing everything we can for her,” replies the physician.

Sam walks over to his Mother’s bed and touches her hand.

It is cold.