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.
