She moved a bed downstairs.
She installed a handrail.
She stocked her freezer with meals.
She even chose a physical therapist before surgery.
That was Mom.
Always prepared.
I still took the day off work to be with her.
Routine surgery or not, she was my mother.
That morning, the hospital was calm.
We checked in and completed the paperwork.
Eventually, a nurse named Patricia brought us into the pre-op area.
Patricia was warm and experienced, probably in her late forties, and she had the kind of relaxed bedside manner that immediately made people comfortable.
She helped Mom change into a gown, reviewed medications and allergies, and talked about recovery.
“The physical therapy is the important part,” Patricia explained. “Do the exercises even when you don’t feel like doing them, and you’ll recover much faster.”
Mom laughed.
“I was a nurse for years. I know exactly what hospital staff say about patients who refuse their exercises.”
Patricia laughed too.
“Oh, then you’re going to be our favorite patient.”
Everything felt completely ordinary.
