Three words that are music to your ears: “Your mother’s fine.” One word that can make your heart skip a beat: “But…”
In the soon-to-be-two-years since my elderly mother has moved into assisted living, I have learned not to panic when the phone rings and I see the caller ID for the facility where she is now living. Most often it is an administrative call regarding a change in the billing procedures. Or a housekeeping call regarding a laundry issue. Or a social call with a personal invitation to Family Day at the Villa.
So when the phone rang a few days ago, late in the afternoon as I was finishing up my work day and I saw the caller ID for the Villa, I did not immediately think there was a problem. Until the voice on the other end of the line identified herself as one of the nursing staff. And she said, “Your mother has fallen, but she has not been admitted to the hospital.”
“She fell forward onto her hands and knees as she was getting up from her bed. I was bringing her meds to her before dinner and when I walked into her room she was on the floor. I helped her up and she seems fine.”
“She was laughing about it, actually. And yes, she walked down to the dining room for dinner without any problem and does not seem to be in any discomfort. And yes, we will keep an extra eye on her tonight. And again tomorrow morning and throughout the day.”
“I told her she almost gave me a heart attack when I walked into her room and saw her on the floor. I asked her what happened, and she said was sitting on her bed putting on her shoes and when she went to stand up, her foot caught the corner of the bedspread and she fell forward. She said the only thing that she hurt was her dignity.”
When I called the next morning to get the nursing report, I was once again reassured by my gal pal, the head nurse, that my mother was indeed just fine. She had gone down to the dining room for breakfast without any problem. She did have a red mark on her one knee, but there was no bruising. She was not in any discomfort. But they would continue to keep an extra eye on her.
When I saw my mother the next day, I was amazed and relieved to see that she really was just fine. Her eyes were bright, her smile was wide and her spirits were good. As I put away the clean laundry I had brought, and took inventory of her personal care items, we had a nice little chat about recent family events and the latest antics of my two puppies. As our visit was ending, I asked her about the fall. She showed me her knee, and I’ll be darn if there wasn’t nothing more than a small red mark.
I am thankful that this little episode had a happy ending. Because I know the day will come when I will get a call and she won’t be fine. But I can’t dwell on that day coming. Because that will send me screaming into a room with a lot of padding on the walls.
However, I do admit, this little episode was a rude little reminder. Of how physically fragile my mother really is. But even with the dementia ruling her brain waves, her spirit is still strong. And I will continue to take my lead from hers, and keep my spirits strong as well.