It was amazing that I could feel both liberated, yet disconnected. To misquote the brilliant comic stipper, Sidney Smith, "Not having the Internet is no disgrace, but it is confoundedly inconvenient!" Surprisingly enough, I survived!My week was going to be turbulent. I had packed all my groceries on Sunday morning, and had quite a bit of space left in my suitcases. My behaviour had surprised me, but I had become very judicious in my purchases, deciding to forego the usual list of essentials, and enjoy the things I cannot find in the USA upon my return to my homeland. Obviously Twiglets were on my list of real essentials, as was 'cheese and onion crisps', but there are some things that one cannot live without, having been accustomed to eating all one's life! Everything else would become a delicacy upon future visits!
My older grandson turned four on Monday, and we were going out for the day. I arrived at his house early, and Steph was already loading the boys into the car. She had prepared lunch, and made a stop on the way to get some drinks. It did not take long to get to Whipsnade Zoo and we decided that we should take the car into the grounds, rather than park outside and walk around the entire perimeter.
After seeing all the animals, we stopped to get an ice-cream. Ollie and I enjoyed ours, whilst people watching, and Jamie wore his! We had spent nearly five hours in the Zoo, and decided that we should go before the boys became over tired. The shop was the last stop, and a small birthday present was bought, which seemed to end the day quite nicely.
I left my grandsons to go back to my mum, late Monday afternoon. Ollie had requested a visit from one of his 'girl' friends, and her mother had obliged. They were playing when I left, and he seemed not to be concerned about my leaving. I was sure both boys would sleep well after a very long and full day, with plenty of fresh air!My sleep was interrupted several times during the night. Mum had a hospital appointment on Tuesday morning, and I was trying to mentally organise my last day. We arose reasonably early, and her carer arrived a little after eight. Driving to the hospital did not take long and I parked the car outside the unit, and walked her in. We 'checked in' and she was called virtually immediately to have some blood taken. I walked her through, concerned about leaving the car. "Did you put my disabled badge on the top?" she asked. I said that I had not as I had to move the car. "But you can park anywhere with the badge", she said. I felt a sense of deja vu! "No. You can't". She disagreed. "Yes, you can. If you put the time on the card, and put it on the top". "No! You can't". I reiterated. "You can park anywhere with the badge", she said, with authority, and firmness. "Not where it says 'No parking, ever, at any time, ever, for anyone, ever'!" I said. The nurse who had come to collect her started to giggle. She had presumably heard this conversation with other patients. I went to park the car!
The consultant was quite pleased with my mother's results. Things were progressing as they should be. He said she looked much better than when he saw her on her previous visit, and explained some things about the medication. I had some questions written down, all of which were answered, and wrote down his diagnosis and comments to relay to my sister. The nurse asked if Mum would like to attend a small group held nearby, to give her a little bit of a social life and support, and perhaps help her understand that she was not the only one suffering, but my mother's response was "Will I have to listen to everyone go on about their illnesses?" Compassion was never her strong point! My mother showed feigned interest, but I did not go along with the pretense. "She would hate it!" I said, so that the willing professional would not waste her time making arrangements, when it could be spent on more productive things!
After the consult, I went to get the car. I called my sister to give her an update. Mum, despite her sharpness of mind, does not always hear what the doctor says, and sometimes adds her own interpretation. "You are looking better", means "You still look awful but not quite as awful as last time!" As I rounded the corner to get to the unit, I saw two burly porters halting the traffic. The road to the unit has two 'No entry' signs. One at one end of the road, and one at the other! These are apparently there to stop anyone taking a 'short cut' through the small alleyway, but are not adhered to by those who need to get to the unit. I was just about to say that I had to get to the unit, when I noticed a small, frail lady in between them. "We made her walk up the 'ill, as there was a lorry blocking the way!" said one. "So I should think", said I. "She could do with a bit of exercise!" They both laughed and helped her into the car. Once home, we called Elise, together, and I told her the results, of which she was aware, and when I said the consultant had said that she was looking better, Mum retorted, "Well, I didn't hear him say that!" I am hoping that with all the 'likeness' there is between my mother and me, this particular similarity will bypass!
Melancholy filled the air on Wednesday as I said 'bye' to mum and her carer. Mum's face was filled with sadness, and I promised to see her later in the year. I think, at her age, she always wonders, "Will you?" My life is a 'Tale of two cities', and I never know if I will be in the right place at the right time! However, such is my life, and I waved a hearty cheerio, and got into the cab. The drive to the airport was quick, and I chatted with the driver to keep my spirits high. I received the usual uncordial reception at the airport, and told the lady at the check-in desk that I was used to be treated with discourtesy. She snapped, "I don't know why. Nothing has changed here!" No. It had not. Perhaps they see politeness as a weakness, and pounce! I don't expect banners and celebrations, just a bit of civility. However, I received a warm welcome from the lady standing at the entry to the 'fast track', as she gushed over my blouse!
Dawn was sitting the other side of the security area. We spent a wonderful hour chatting over coffee and then said our farewells. It was such a treat to 'catch up' on so many occasions during the two weeks, and especially to have the fellowship immediately prior to my departure. It seemed to make leaving a little easier. However, my flight was delayed for an hour, and I knew my journey back would take just a little longer.
I had a little too much to eat in the lounge, and then went in search of the gate, where the plane was situated. It took a long time to board, but I had no one sitting next to me on the long flight. No sign of any passenger wanting to 'throw up' because she was not next to her husband. Small mercies! I watched four films and ate and ate. The plane crew were most cordial, even pleasant! I was asked what I would like for dinner, and I chose the fish. The options of beef, chicken and vegetarian did not appeal, and I told the attendant, "I don't like the other three", when asked for my second choice, should the first not be available. He was gracious and my first choice was provided. When asked what I would like for 'tea', I did not hesitate. "The chicken, please", I said, and wondered why he looked confused. Oops!
"Welcome home, ma'am", said my daughter. I had turned on my phone upon landing, and it rang immediately. Immigration was a mess! Most people had missed their connections, but I did not panic. I knew that I would be put on another flight. "I think I might make it if I can go in front of a few people", said the girl behind me. I offered to let her go in front of me, but that would be of little help, because instead of being number 51, she would be number 50. Perhaps more. "Why don't you ask the people that side of the rope, if you can go in front of them?" I said, pointing to the fabric barrier that separated the queue. They were two and three from the front. "Oh, they have kids. I don't know. I don't like to push in". Don't ask. Don't get. I was tired. I just shrugged my shoulders. "Do you think they would mind?" she asked. I told her that they could only say 'No' . "But they have kids. I don't know. I don't like to push in". Did she want me to play 'mom'? I did not. She asked. She got! They let about five people out of the line, and then, quite amazingly, all the entry personnel left! Not one gate was open. We stood in line for twenty minutes before another official arrived. At this time, Samantha had called to say I had been put on another flight. However, I had not been upgraded, and she was going to call the airline to say I should be! I was quite amazed. My daughter calling the airline! My daughter calling anyone she did not know! This was indeed progress. She called me back and told me that she had 'demanded' that I be given a first class seat, and they had obliged. This, somehow, made the whole experience worthwhile! She normally gives me her phone when an unrecognised number comes up. She normally gives me her phone when a recognised number comes up but it is not one of her friends!
Eventually, I got through immigration, and customs, and went in search of a new boarding pass. "Who sent you here?" asked the chap at the desk. Oh wow! Were you truly wafted here from London? (To misquote again...! From a truly English commercial of many, many years ago!)
With the second security check having been completed, I ran to the lounge, where I grabbed a cup of soup, and a cup of water, and ran to my gate. How do you know you are in Texas? When the crew are waiting to board the plane and the Captain is playing his banjo to entertain the passengers! Despite feeling exhausted, I felt a big smile come over my face. Welcome home ma'am, indeed!
Dana was not at the gate. He was not in the building. He was parking the car. "What have they done with the car park?" were his first words. "Hey, Dane. Did you miss me?" said I!
My first day back at work was long. I went swimming at lunchtime and then went back to work. I called my mum, who said she was in a bit of pain. I then heard from my sister that she had called an ambulance. At about five, she had been admitted to a side ward of the casualty unit, after finding nothing in the x-rays that had been taken, and was going to spend the night there. This could not have happened while I was there? Dana and I left the office at eight, and had dinner with our neighbour, (now ex-neighbour as he moved to New Mexico on Friday,) and I was not particularly sociable. All I wanted to do was sleep. I had committed to sticking to my routine, and unpacked my cases in the morning, becoming aware of all the things I had bought Samantha, and I was sure I would be woken in the early hours with a report from my sister.
Thankfully, my mother had a reasonable night and I did not hear from Elise until I messaged her in the morning. They were going to keep mum in hospital at least until Saturday morning. Friday morning was busy again. Did I mention that I got stung by a wasp when in England? I was walking back from the village and one landed on my hand. Not knowing what it was, I felt something and squashed it. It stung. David had joked with me that I could 'dine out' on the story for a month or more, and I had said, "Thank goodness it was not a Texas wasp. Everything is bigger in Texas. Although they are hard to miss, as they are so big!" I missed one! I was swimming on Friday afternoon, and felt a severe sting (yes, sting) in my neck. I then saw the culprit. Nothing happened at first. Nothing happened for a while. Again, we left the office late, and returned to the same restaurant as the previous night and I had their 'other' soup. We went home and I fell into a deep sleep and awoke at half past midnight, wide awake!
Elise said she had managed to get mum home, and her carer would stay for a few days. I spoke to mum and she sounded a lot better than she had on Thursday. She was far more alert. She told me that she had been given morphine, and on Friday night there had been a commotion in Casualty. She had asked what was going on and the nurse told her not to worry. "I think I should know what is going on in my own home!" she said. "You are not in your own home", she was told. When she told me the story, she was laughing and said that she was really not 'with it'. I thought that was a good sign. The wasp sting had started to itch and I was in a bit of discomfort, but then thought of the discomfort that my mother was in, and felt a fraud. This lasted for about two minutes, as the sting really started to sting!
Shopping on my own was not my first preference, but shop I did. Samantha and Edward were out for the day, and Dana had Frank. I came home and went swimming. I swam, I read and I slept. Two neighbours came down and I socialised! Dana and I ate barbecue! I had an internet connection! I was home!
Mum seems to be a little more settled. I seem to have conquered the jet lag, and life is getting back to normal, or as normal as it can be. I slept with an ice pack on the wasp sting and it appears to have gone down slightly. I am planning a quiet afternoon. Hopefully, we shall have an additional body in the office on Monday; a new member of staff to help out. I am looking forward to that with relish. I have to take my phone in to get the new screen fitted on Monday. Yes, it did smash right through. I did take it in on Friday but they did not have the part! Now that, in itself, will be part of ....... another story!
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