“Hello Bird! I hear you’ve been naughty again!” I said.
“No I have not and I’m NOT going to the hospital!” was her welcoming reply.
This lovely banter continued in front of the tired paramedics waiting to take her in. It was nearly 8pm and life would be easier if Mum just acquiesced to them taking her to the hospital. After a minute of cajoling her, I decided to go with tough love and threatened her.
“Do you want to bleed out in this bed or do you want to do something about it? What would you say to me if I was lying there?”
She giggled, her birdy eyes twinkling with delight above the paramedics Kung fu grip on her nostrils. “I’d tell you to stay where you are! Leave me to die! I want to die!”
I growled. The paramedics frowned.
“If you want to bleed out, I’m going home. I will not stand here and watch you die. Everyone will leave you. Make up your mind or I’m leaving now!” Grrr.
She looked at me, weighing her options on further manipulation.
“Okay,” came the small tweet from my Bird.
The male paramedic sighed and smiled. “Okay we’re a go! I’m going to get the bed.”
He ran out before she could change her mind.
“Where’s he going?” my little Bird asks.
“To get the special trolley to take you out.”
“But I’m not going anywhere. I told you already, I’m not GOING!”
Grr. No, it wasn’t me growling! The sweet medics ground their teeth in frustration.
“Yes you are Bird!”
The trolley arrived and we made a procession out the door into the cold night. I shivered as I thanked them for their patience.
The car’s panel beeped at me. No fuel. *insert expletive here*. A quick trip to the fuel station and I’m on my way. Classical music blaring, tail lights flashing by as I fly down the motorway and find an empty parking lot. All the visitors have left the hospital. It’s a ghost town. My trained footsteps follow the path out of the main hospital round the corner to the A&E. The lovely lady at the desk goes out of her way to find the lost Bird and finds her in processing. I have to wait with the other anxious relatives stewing on uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room. Blank eyes look at me and I ignore them, going straight to WordPress to catch up on my favourite blogs.
Nearly an hour and a half later a man’s voice called my first name. I felt like I was back in school again and quickly stood, embarrassed to be called out with everyone watching me walk through the special door. Bird was parked up against the wall in the passageway and we sat there for a few hours. Who said Thursday’s were boring at A&E. She coughed up blood, I caught it and joked about how lucky she was that I’m not squeamish. OCD took to me to the sink to wash my hands three times. SCRUB! SCRUB! SCRUB!
My legs ached from standing. It was nearly 11pm and we were both yawning. Nurses fluttered to and fro playing a giant game of chess with their Observation department. It looked like they were winning ’cause no-one was disappearing from the ward.
At last, we were moving again. I got the distinct impression it was because of the odorous smell emanating from Bird. She needed changing! Fast forward another hour and a doctor found us. He actually listened and questionned which was refreshing.
Doc: “Are you ready? We are going to cauterise the spots in your nose.”
Bird: “No! No! Will it hurt?”
Me (to myself): Like a b…
Nurse: “it will sting but it’s better to get it done and then you won’t have to come back and see us again!”
Bird: “So what are you waiting for? Get on with it!”
I grinned to myself. My bird is a really sweet thing.
Roll on two hours and the A&E has powered down. The patients that were active and abusive just an hour before had settled down to the symphony of beep beeps from the monitors. I had spent the last hour getting up to shake Bird’s numb bum. Yes it sounds strange, but the trolley bed had put her posterior to sleep and she starting tweeting in pain, causing the other old birds around her to flap and caw in a cacophony of complaints. The only option was to gently rock her and shift her body to alleviate the pressure.
My mum had a numb bum.
The numb bum caused her to be glum!
Can you tell I’m tired yet?
2.15am and the nurses called it. Time for a tea break. I asked what time Bird would be moved to a ward. There would be no movement that night. I bid Bird farewell and drove home.
I love Bird but she can be tiresome at times. Her idea of a fun night out is far too racy for me. Dodging death and putting him on a wating list is just downright cockey. But that’s how she rolls!