Good Twin, Bad Twin

Let's start with the evil one. Today she was mean to her husband, and felt overwhelmed and stressed out because her Dad called himself into the ER. [Again--but he waited a while since the last time, which was March 21. She knows the date because the ambulance company that drove him has been calling her cell for the unpaid balance of $44, which she is about to mail.]

Anyway, the evil one was cranky, cranky. She loves her Dad so much, but really did not want to go to the hospital. Her Dad can be quite grouchy sometimes. And she had just seen him the evening before, filled his pill boxes, taken out the garbage, cleaned up the bathroom, tried hard to reassure him that he'd be okay while his good weekday helper, Pepsi, was away on a short trip until today. But she could not quell his anxiety.

So she decided that this time, she wouldn't just whiz by the giant Whole Foods on Route 4 East in Paramus, the one she passes every time on her way to her Dad's but had never set foot in. The evil one dipped in briefly to check it out, even though she knew her Dad was lying in a hospital bed. She was in a playland, seeking diversion. She found a candle, a book, a bottle of wine for her Sis, whom she would see early the next morning. [Over a month ago, she had planned to drive Sis home to Connecticut after her outpatient surgery in NYC.] And oh--maybe she also found a little MarieBelle and Vosges chocolate, at better prices than she's seen lately. Oh, and something else on the dark side: a Dark Iced Mocha, as only a careful Whole Foods barista can make it. [Did it help that it had an airy, angel-wing cap of cream on top?]

All of this meant that she did not arrive at Englewood Hospital, 5th floor, until about 8:45 P.M.

Good Twin
Thank goodness for the good twin, who balances out the evil one. She made sure all was well with her daughter before she left and that her husband had what he needed from the store to make their dinner [pasta with homemade sauce] before she took their car to Englewood.

She saw the sunset in her rear window while she drove to Englewood Hospital. She drove safely, carefully.

She found her Dad lying in bed in a hospital gown, and he was happy. She set up the phone in the room. She wrote down the numbers he might need. She had him practice calling. She spoke to his nurse, a nice blonde young woman named Christie. She showed her Dad the pink and orange sunset out of the big window in his room--she could see beautiful mountains far, far in the distance. "I saw it," he said. "Doctor Degennaro mentioned it, too."

She brought him a Supreme Dark Chocolate bar from Whole Foods. She gave him a wet paper towel to wipe the corners of his mouth when the chocolate dripped down a little. When he didn't get it all, she asked him if it was okay if she wiped his mouth, so she did. She had never done that before. It felt nice to be taking care of her father in such a personal way...but not too personal.

They watched a little bit of Mean Girls on his hospital TV, and she told him how her daughter loves that movie. They tested the phone again by calling her condo, and he spoke to her husband and daughter.

She stayed till 10, when her Dad started to worry about her getting home safely. Even though he was the one in the hospital, and he was 87, he was still worried about her getting home safely. That made her feel secure, and loved. Like someone was watching out for her.

She hung up his pants, noticed the Haband label in the waist--her Dad used to order his pants by mail. She closed the metal door of the narrow hospital closet, the one that had held the clothes of many other people who were not feeling well. She reviewed with him where the button was to call the nurse. Then she took the pants out and refolded them more neatly over the hanger, matching the creases. The pant legs looked short. "I know you're a neatnik," she said to her Dad. They shared a smile, and a laugh.

She turned out his light. She put his reading glasses on his bedside tray. She told him she loved him and kissed him good night.

She stopped in the small chapel in the lobby and said a quick prayer. Her Dad had gone to Catholic church every Sunday for most of his life, until he got too old to sit comfortably there, and started watching Mass on TV.

And then she drove back home.