Daily Cookie

I just got home from visiting my cousin in the hospital.  We spoke on the phone yesterday and she told me she was on her way to a doctors appointment.  I am thinking gyno, check-up or maybe even a little microdermabrasion.  Well that’s at least what my beauty doctor tells the monkeys who is phoning when she calls my office to confirm my appointments.  Which basically sums up the difference between me and Susie.  But never did my smart, reserved and sensible cuz mention she was not feeling well.  In fact, when I hung up with her I was wondering why she seemed so distant and was being a little missy pissy.

She has been sick with poop soup since July 2nd.  I would have thought great diet and what perfect timing for bikini weather.  Susie, on the other and much more practical hand, thought maybe its time to get checked out.  My Mom called me this morning to let me know what was going on.  They ruled out all the “bad” stuff and were now holding her for observation and to run some more tests.  I knew she hadn’t planned on checking herself in, so I assumed she didn’t have the right stuff.  I phoned her to ask if she needed any of the essentials – rag mags, music or good underwear.  Stressing the good underwear.  Susie is single so her undies should either be doctor neutral or doctor friendly depending on the datability status of the doc.  It made her laugh. But of course I was totally serious.    

I ran home after work, made a quick dinner (yep I can bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan), grabbed my man (who I have to  say despite his major jetlag came along willingly) and made it to the hospital a whole half hour before visiting hours were over. 

You have to understand my family – or any Italian family for that matter.  We do everything together, there is always a crowd and its always noisy.  We talk over one another and just get louder to be heard.  Hospital rooms, and shared hospital are no exception.  Welcome to Room 412 A (she had a roommate). Had being the key word here – more on that in the next paragraph.  My Mom, Dad, Aunt Jubes and Uncle were all crammed in one half of the room.  Enter Mike and me.  Noise level immediatley went up.  My Mom told me she didn’t like my hair and it “wasn’t my best look.”  Of course everyone else piped in too.  I guess doo rags are not in fashion in hospitals these days.  Note to self – make blow out apppointment for later this week.  Note to monkeys – say its a doctors appointment if anyone calls.  I hopped in bed with Susie and actually sat on and almost yanked out her IV.  Oops sorry but can you please move over.  I then proceeded to tell the tiny room my escapades in Nantucket. We all laughed.  Both Aunt Jubes and Mom are nurses – we know how to cheer up a room.

412B didn’t really appreciate my bedside manner.  Poor thing got up, dragged herself out of bed and left the room.  That’s when my Aunt decided to tell us that she was in for splitting migraine headaches and was scheduled for a spinal tap.  My Mom responded with well that still gives her no right to be pissy.  That’s my Mom – always sticking up for us.  She proceeded to also say that if she came to her pain center tomorrow, she would give her a little extra pinch.  We all laughed again and this time even louder. Well why not, we had a private suite at this point. B checked out.

Susie is going to be fine.  And I hope her ex roomie is too.  Mom, if by some chance you do get this girl as a patient tomorrow, try and be nice.  All together we can be overwhelming and enough to make any girl a little pissy.

Feel better Susie! Love, your cousin.