Saturday, May 16, 2009

Same Story...Different State

Back in the fall I told you the story about a night sleeping in the Mustang after my mother and I had traveled the ever construction ridden interstates that make up the Atlanta area in a rush taking my brother to a downtown hospital. Only this time, I went north instead of south. It seems that my sister didn't want to be outdone by her older brother in the sickness department and got to spend almost a week in the hospital and five days in the ICU. We do like to have a little excitement in the MA Fat Woman's family.

What is normally a 7.5 hour drive for me took almost 11 hours. When I finally walked into the ICU at nearly midnight with my ass dragging the floor my poor sister took one look at me and attempted to get up out of the bed. "Here you go," she said, "You look like you need this more than me."

It was a harrowing trip and I was glad to have made it in one piece. Best of all, I didn't have to sleep in the car.

My sister and I had each made separate plans for Mother's Day. She had a college graduation and party to go to in Ohio and I had planned a picnic with Mom, Brother, Aunt P and Cousins R, M, S and C in Georgia. They were having T-bones and it wasn't even someones birthday.

Needless to say, it didn't quite work out that way. She got to spend the day with me, her little sister, and I had only one job and that was to make her laugh. My family tells me that I inherited my storytelling from my Dad who could spin a yarn that was hard not to believe because he told them so well.

And laugh we did! You know how there are some days when everything is funny. (If not, you need to laugh more.) We got the giggles, and kept the giggles the whole day. I think what set us off was the doctor that was on call that weekend finally decided to show up at the hospital to do rounds. You talk about someone who has their stethoscope stuck up their butt, this would be her. Wacko Quacko!

Anyhow, after another day in the hospital, Big Red got to come home and I spent a few days ensuring that she didn't have a relapse. All of us kids inherited something from our father that we wish he would have kept.

I may write a story about it in the future or I may not. I'm fickle that way.

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