For the precious three years we had with our son, I was not only a mother, but a nurse. I went to journalism school, so this was not my chosen profession. However, with g-tubes, central lines, physical and occupational therapies, and various daily dosages, I was required to know more than I ever expected about medicine.
My mom, however, was a registered nurse for over 40 years. She chose to pursue an education in medicine and took care of hundreds of patients over the course of her career.
In the last two months she has suffered a few health setbacks, and though she has historically been my family’s resource for all things medical, my sister, dad, and I have been the ones listening intently to doctors’ instructions and documenting directions.
It’s been a shift for all of us, and though we are each taking on a new role in her care, I have to say, she has been an ideal patient, and we are all more than happy to step in and help where we can.
Still, at moments, it has left me feeling a little helpless. I can tell her when to take her medicine and bring her diet-friendly food, but I can’t fix it.
At our most recent visit to the hospital, we were all anxious. We were waiting at registration, and as my mom was giving her name at the desk, I heard familiar guitar music. We walked out of the office, and below a staircase on the main floor was a band playing, ‘Amie.’
I said, ‘Mom, do you hear that? She’s here.’ I smiled.
Her sister, who passed just before our sweet angel, was named Amy, and we always said that was her song.
Mom got a little tear in her eye and we walked to the elevator. Upstairs, at the admitting desk was a small silver Christmas tree with only one ornament, a bright red cardinal–our symbol for our sweet angel in Heaven.
‘That’s so weird!’ said Mom.
‘It’s not weird,’ I replied. ‘It’s them.’
I went on to explain that the night before, and that very morning, I prayed to them both, asking that they watch over Mom, the doctors, and the nurses, during her procedure.
Maybe I am not as helpless as I thought. 😇