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A day after the phone call from JP, M and I made the trek to Mother’s local hospital. Not sure what to expect, we found her room and tentatively approached. Another, whom I didn’t know was just leaving, and inside, Mother was already reaching for her appointment book and telephone, writing notes to herself while she did so.



“Hi.” I said trying to sound cheerful as I entered, M. trailing behind me.


Mother looked up surprised. I was pleased that the first emotion that seemed to flicker over her face was positive. She seemed genuinely happy to see us.


“Hi.” She answered as we took seats at either side of the foot of the bed. She shifted her appointment book and telephone away from her lap. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”


I resisted the urge to say, you didn’t call. Instead, I told her vaguely that I had heard from JP, not wanting to get the woman in trouble, and asked what her diagnosis was.


“Oh they don’t know yet.” She said with a dismissive wave. “Tomorrow they’ll run some tests and then we’ll see. I hope to be home the end of the week.” I nodded, feeling a familiar edginess. There was no mention of how she'd ended up there, or symptoms.


“Why are they keeping you here then?”


“I can’t walk.” She said with indigence as if this were something I should just know.   The tide turned instantly.   “And my right arm is weak, I can’t even hold a pen. So I can’t take care of myself.”


I frowned, tensing. I had just watched her twice use this arm with no difficulty.


“What’s wrong?”


“They don’t know.” She snapped, the moment of friendliness was now completely gone. “Get me my notebook.” She demanded, pointing to where she just set it on the tray table. I got up and handed it to her. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. There’s stuff in the office that has to get done. It’s the end of the month.” She sighed with irritation.


“What has to be done?”


“Well, the billing! JP could go do the billing, but the daybook isn’t up to day, and that has to be done first, but you know that.”


Yes, I did. For years I had been back up secretary and book keeper. Filling in between the literally dozens of secretaries Mother went through and catching things up annually when they fell overwhelmingly behind.


“Not that you care. You made that clear on the phone, when I asked if you could come help me with it.”


At that point, I couldn’t help it. I bit.


“What? We didn’t talk about the office on the phone.”


“Yes we did. That was the whole reason I called you.”


“No. You called and left a message about cleaning the house and when I called you back, you said I had misunderstood you were just calling about visiting.”


“No. I never mentioned the house or visiting.  I told you the office was behind and I needed help catching the accounts up  so that I could send out bills and I specifically asked if you could come and just do that one thing and you said no.”


M. tried to intervene, making gentle soothing noises. It didn’t work.


“Okay… clearly, I misunderstood something. I’m sorry. What is it that you need now. We have about an hour, still. Is there something I can do in the office in that time that would be helpful?”


She thought about this for a second, then handed me the pad for me to take down the list.






For the next two hours, M. read patiently as I caught up on her office book keeping. She was right, it was behind. From what I saw, no one had done anything for at least four months. As best I could, I brought all accounts up to date, then worked on recording all expenses and balancing the check book for that amount of time. I recorded all that I had done, making sure things were documented and clear. I gathered all the things she requested me to fetch and three hours later we were back at the hospital.


She was on the phone when we arrived and quickly told us to leave and come back later. We backed away and took the opportunity to try to talk to the nurse at the desk. She was a very nice and sympathetic woman, who took my name and number, but told me Mother had not named me as a person who could be told information. She was sure it was an oversight. I was not.


We lingered outside Mother’s door until we heard her off the phone and entered.


“Okay…” I said, noting that her ‘useless arm’ was being employed very successfully again. I said nothing, only outlined all that I’d done and unpacked that which she wanted, where she wanted. With this out of the way, I asked if she would tell give the staff permission to talk to me. It might be easier I explained, that way if I called and she were unavailable, I might get an update.


She complained. I had not done enough. I had not brought enough. I had interrupted her. Finally, as to my request, she side stepped. She told me all about her nurse friend, who she was thinking of making her medical proxy, as by virtue of being a nurse, knew all things medical.


That was fine, I said, if that was what she wished. Anything she wished, but would she please give permission for people to talk to me? It was left vague. But by that point, we had been in town for 5 hours and it would be another hour and half before we made it home. The hospital was requiring visitors to leave and Mother was upset that it was becoming too late to make her calls.