Ma on Sticks

Me mam had a slip yesterday morning and landed on one bended knee. Now touching 58, that is not something one wants to be doing. It has a very high possibility of making bones break. Which is what has happened in her case.

I only managed to get round to seeing her in the hospital today cos of the fears of the flu virus going abouts and having the kids home for the weekend. And as much as I told myself - I've worked in a hospital, I've been admitted into hospitals, I've visited hospitals; none of them prepared them for the sight of seeing mum in a threadbare hospital gown and hobbling about.

The kids made a video on my phone for me to show to her cos they have been banned (by mum no less!) to go visit. And they also demanded I take one of her for them in return.

As I told Ben last night, my mum - these days, her 6 grandkids are who she lives for, and in particular to a grand extent, my two. She has helped me nurse Lydia and Luke from the day they were born. And even at 58 with creaky joints, she still carried out her role as grandchild bather for the 1st month with our newest member Gabriel.

It all rang true as I watched her watching the video, fighting back tears as her "doh-doh" and "lukey" said their hellos and I-love-yous.. and recording one back in return for them, I realised that mum may still look the same as she did 10 years ago, but mum in truth, is not quite the same anymore.

For the last few years, I inadvertently started a personal pre-birthday tradition of pondering if mum is proud of me, and all that I have achieved. This is something that she does not know about cos it's never been spoken of. Kissing her good night before leaving her with a room full of strange-bed-fellows, I asked myself: Why have I never ever asked her in person?

It's not a major surgery, this fixing of a patellar fracture. And while she is not resting in the comforts of a 5-star private hospital, I am confident that she is in good hands (half of the surgeons are Irish graduates!). And hey, when she gets round to eating hospital grub again, I'm not too worried that it'll be congealing gunk ~ afterall, if they are sending food around in a RM 75,000 Burlodge trolley - it'll at least come to her at the right temperature. (And if I find that it is not, words will be said at the Customer Service desk for sure!!)

Nonetheless, thinking ahead of how a bed's gotta be fixed up for her in the living room, the navigating of tight corners just to get to the bathroom, the weeks of watching the rest of us run the house (which is her domain), I am pretty sure this experience is gonna change mum somewhat.

A year ago, when I decided to take her back down south for her birthday weekend, it was referred to as Barbsie doing the adult thing. Never did I reckon that a year later, just as I was wondering what to get her for her birthday, that the best gift I can give her would be ACTUALLY doing the adult thing.

We often forget the nights that our folks stay up to nurse us when we were wee lil rugrats. And it's sad in my case, to see my ma on sticks to be reminded of the times she has held my hand as my temp rose beyond belief.

Regardless of the hospital policy in place, I am hell bent to do whatever necessary to make sure that this time round, when ma opens her eyes post-op, I'm there holding her hand and giving her water or whatever else it is she wants.

As I was duly warned last night - it's gonna be painful personally to see her wince in pain. But I would be always appreciative of the fact that I was able to walk it thru with her.

If I have one wish this year, I will spend it wishing that I will never grow so callous as to never have time to do the lil things that matter, such as making time, effort and energy when it counts and for the people who count.