hell in a hosptial doctors handbag and U2

Oh
my
God


Those three words express so much when I think of all the horrors my mother has experienced since the postponement of her operation - not to mention day one from when she was operated on Wednesday morning.

But the good thing is that she is on the mend and fingers crossed, will continue to do so despite the horrible circumstances that seem to surround her with ever breath she takes. And also that we are taking it all in stride - with a smile.

I mean, when things couldn't get any worse (like when the epidural she was supposed to have for her pain was actually running down her back and not into her spine because it was inserted improperly !!!??!!) the recovery room nurse breaks the machine that was taking the fluid out my mom's lungs, tosses it on her bed, and ships her off to her new room without any indication that it needed repairs (it was only my mother who noticed that it was not working...), to cleaning machines whirling down the hall at 4am, and doctors yelling to eachother at 5am across her bed - all we could do was laugh to keep from crying.

This experience has taught me that there are two types of people in the world - those who are completely ambivalent about people's suffering, and those who genuinely care. We have seen both sides of the coin, but if it weren't for the handful doctors and nurses who went the extra mile, this really would have been a nightmare come true. Instead we are left with Larson-esque tales from the FarSidesque hospital from hell which will rekindle amusing memories to tell our friends and family for years to come.

***

Mom apologized today for not being able to get me a birthday present. She had given me an early one a few weeks ago - a spice rack (a really fancy one - like a lazy susan) and said:
"I really feel bad for not getting you anything, but just spin your spice rack and think of me."


And how ironic is it that I will be spending time with her in the hospital this afternoon when 40 years ago to the day (and at 3:30pm - to the hour) , she was in a hospital bringing me into the world.

I told her we would celebrate by wearing bed pans as party hats and blow up latex gloves for balloons. At this point, we don't care if they all think we're nuts - they drove us there in a limousine!


***

despite me being terrified about turning the big number, I tried to calm myself and silence those nagging pessimistic mantras with memories of happier times - back in cegep with good friends, and being a dj at the campus radio station. What a blast from the past it was when a special song came on my ipod: "in the name of love" by U2.

A few days after the single came out in 1984, I had my show at the station and decided to play it for the first time. People went wild and came in by the dozens to ask what they were hearing.

I was born April 4th - the exact same day martin luther king got shot.

Early morning, April 4
Shot rings out in the Memphis sky
Free at last, they took your life
They could not take your pride

It seems like yesterday, but that afternoon remains etched in my memory - and what a sweet memory it is.

That spring afternoon, the sun was shining, life was full of possibilities, I was young but embraced turning one year older. Some recollections of really happy times in my life.

This afternoon, after the visit with my mom, it was also a sunny day. The snow was melting, and on the horizon - new beginnings.

Now I'm a year older looking forward to making this the happiest time of my life.

happy birthday to me :-)