#36b
"A twelve year old milk cow," Evie was as indignant as she could muster, "Why what a terrible thing to say, those critters have bones sticking out all over."
"So do you Grandma, that's why we are so concerned. How much longer do you need to be in here?" Clora questioned. "I missed the visit with your Doctor today, what did she have to say?"
"She said," the RN came through the door with an Ensure in one hand and a sheaf of papers to sign in the other; "You need to have one of these every day and if you can get one down today, you can be released about 5pm." The very large man grinned, showing rows of perfectly white, perfectly even teeth in a fiendish smile.
Clora thought Grams said something that sounded suspiciously like, "that stuff tastes like crap," but the small rush of breath was over in an instant, and Evie sure looked innocent.
Instead, she hobbled to the bed and sat down. "Let me get to signing," she ordered, ignoring the initial condition. The nurse popped the pull tab on the Ensure and set it down with a thump on the overbed table. "First things, first," he smiled again, deliberately holding the papers behind him.
Standing close to Evie, Clora could hear that once again little rush of breath that said "you're a horse's pattotie," but Evie kept her face straight as she chugged the small can's worth of vanilla liquid. Finished, she set it on the tray with a small, but smartly tuned thump.
Chewing on his lower lip, the RN set the papers and a pen on the tray, slowly scooting the empty can across the top and out of the way. Evie grabbed the pen and went to rapidly scribbling her name on the dotted line.
"I'll be ready," she promised with a mean streak showing in her eyes.
"Oh, I forgot," the man reached outside the room door and produced a cane. "Doctor's orders. If you fall, you have a greater chance of breaking your hip. Got the statistics right here to prove it," he rapped the papers against the silver shaft. "It's lightweight, adjustable and with you any time you move." he thumped the cane on the floor for emphasis.
"I'd like to thump you," the slight breath whispered as Evie ducked her head and pretended to recheck the paperwork.
Mark the nurse had excellent hearing, and he really did like the feisty old lady, but he had to abide by Doctor's orders whether she liked it or not. It was to bad if she didn't, if she wanted discharged, she would toe the mark.
Evie measured the look in his eyes and sighed. She wanted out and would have danced with the devil, and actually felt like that nurse was the devil. Meekly Evie obliged, picking up the cane and and testing it on the floor. "It'll do," was all she said.
"Ladies," Mark intoned looking at Clora and Sandy, and with a nod of his head including Wayne but bypassing Evie, "Mrs Hanson needs to walk a minimum amount. Can you wait on her? PT will be twice a week here at the hospital, and the bandages need to be changed every day. Any problems?"
Nobody said a word about living in a tent in a parking lot, Grandma would have beaten them with that blasted cane if they had. Shaking their heads no, the Grandkids couldn't look at each other, they would have burst out laughing.
Mark narrowed his eyes and studied the kids. They were amused at something, but he let it pass. He was used to all types of characters, and this group was a doozy. "There is an appointment with the Doctor in 5 days, the time and address is here," and he held aloft the fourth or fifth sheet of paper. Once again all the people in the room nodded like a bobblehead chorus line.
Clora broke into say, "Let me get in touch with Brett, we can use his pickup or call a cab. I have to go right now, it's my time to visit with Mark," and she was sprinting out the door.
"Another Mark?" the nurse questioned, and looked to Evie for an answer.
"PTSD" Sandy returned quietly, "but my sister will make sure he gets better," her conviction was total. There was no doubt in Sandy's mind that Clora would win that battle. She was an alpha woman to an alpha man. They would make it through.
Mark the nurse nodded his agreement. He was a good judge of character and he could see that Clora was all business when it came to that certain project. The guy in the room looked like a throwback to a Sasquatch, only skinny as an IV pole. Must be a relative, as they seemed to value his opinion. The skinny younger girl was acting a touch hard but she was passable to deal with.
The papers spread all over the bed looked like maps and real estate handouts. "You all looking for a place?" Mark inquired to be friendly. "Yes," Evie relented her bristly position. "we are looking for a small farm. We've been burned out by a forest fire and need to relocate." she heaved a huge sigh. It was a daunting thought.
"My Uncle has a friend with a place and he has to go to a nursing home," Mark replied, deep in thought. "Let me find out the particulars."
"Please do," Evie said softly, "we need to get an inside track and help from somewhere."
"I'll call on my lunch break and get back to you before 5," Mark the nurse promised. "Slow and steady, no sudden or tight turns and use the cane for balance," he warned the old lady and watched as her mouth tightened in annoyance. She was going to be fine, he would bet on it.
Clora was stopped as she entered the swinging doors of the 5th floor. She gave her name and who she was intending to visit.
"I'm sorry, there are no visitors allowed for that patient today. Come back tomorrow." Clora was dismissed with no further explanation. "Please leave this floor, now." The unsmiling guard at the inner doors motioned her to turn around.
"Is he OK?" Clora begged for information. "Please tell me he's alright."