So said my mother to Bill upon his return home from the hospital. Thanks to the encouragement of several choir members Bill and I arrived at the Ellsworth hospital emergency room shortly after church on Sunday. And not a moment too soon-he was one sick man. Pneumonia, flu and a surprising diagnosis of diabetes. At age 80 my husband spent his first night ever in a hospital.
Hospitals are humbling. The straight talk about bodily functions, the dire situations of many patients, the presence of death. And the tremendous amount of trust that goes into turning one’s beloved over to the hands of others…that, too, is humbling.
This was a good time to live in a small town. The doctor on duty was Bill’s primary physician, our neighbor, and the father of two of my former students. The next day doctor was both my friend and piano student as well as the mother of two of my young piano pupils. Bill received very personal care from doctors who know and like him and even the cell phone number of one of them, to use if necessary.
My husband is home now, adjusting to new medications, routines and diet. We have received a reminder, duly noted, of the importance of each other, our family and our friends. And of the great gift of health.