Cords and Coffee

 Taking care of your parents, when they live, not around the corner, is never easy. Certainly I am not the first child to move away from where they were born. By plane, its about a 45 min flight and a three hour ordeal, at the airport. The drive is five or six hours, and my driving skills have gone south with my eyesight. I can drive it, but I will be in a coma for a couple of days in recovery. Back hurts, legs cramp, eyes strained, and stress level is about Code Red, just getting through Atlanta! I go the back roads from Tifton, and can release the grip on the wheel. It may be a little longer, but my sanity may remain intact, by arrival.
  This last trip down, was pretty decent a drive, with my Emma driving me down, and she flew back the next day. Then at the end of my stay, I hit the road about 5am, and could not see the road, until around 8. However once the sun was up, and my music was cranked, I had a pretty sweet trip. Only twice did I feel like I was either off the road, or a semi was about to hit me, so that my friends is a huge successful trip.
  You may ask where are you going with this Bon-Bon? " No Where!" I smile as I type, my knee is throbbing, and another story arises from the ash!
  I have come to the realization that I only require two things to survive, Cords and Coffee. At least while taking daddy to doctors, and hospital visit. ( not totally true, my brother making me laugh for hours, was the cream on the top) While checking daddy into surgery last Wednesday, I gave them my name as the patient. So when they called Baron, several times, we looked at each other, like what a coincidence. Then screamed a little, and ran up to the desk, trying to explain, that I gave them the wrong name. That was my first sign of two many cords and coffee. I think I was on my fourth cup AND...I had a zip-lock bag of cords, in my purse that weighed thirty pounds. Dad could not walk to the next surgery unit, we were in the lines at Disney world, minus Mickey!!!! so I asked for a wheelchair, and person to drive him. That left me with his walker and my purse, to follow. I put my purse on one handle of the walker and I on the other handle, and off we went. Twisting and turning down several alcohol smelling hallways, when the purse took over the walker. Down I went, knees first, then wrist and almost face, to the surgery floor!!!! Now I had everyone in a white coats attention, as dad just sat there. I assured them I was OK, and continued on. I think we had increased attention in that area, due to dads limitations and my graceful way of constantly falling.( Brother man, was forced to come to the hospital to take care of sissy!) ( I wanted him there anyway) ( Tommy you should have been with us!!) ( Baby brother was in charge of mom, we have to divide and conquer)
   Dad goes back to surgery, Benjie and I begin the wait!!! I pull out my bag of cords, plugging into every outlet known to man, and charging UP!!! I had to be ready. For what , I do not know. Take photos, text mom hundreds of times, keep everyone in the loop, read my kindle, use my IPAD to do research on song lyrics about Elton John's song, Rocket man!( only my brother, Pocket Man, will get this) I told B that I think the cords, did me in. Sent the walker over, you know I will never blame my bag!! I love my purse!! Mom said, "Get rid of that purse!" NOOOOOoooooo   it was just overstocked with electronics, and cords. It was hospital ready. I know that kids now, the young people of the planet, use the term "Hooked Up!" to mean something, I think sexual?? I think we called it getting laid, but all generations have a term!! My hooked up means, a big bag of cords, that took me to the floor! but it was worth it ( I wonder if young ones can say that!! It was worth it??? Just wondering) I woke B up in the waiting room, he looked like a damn corpse with his mouth open, " Can you get me some coffee?" My drugs of choice, coffee and cords, and maybe call X-ray for a portable picture of my knee!! Honestly, life can be so very simple, at the most complex of times. I think that is how we learn to manage, survive and still find joy. ( more hospital stories to come!!) Oh and dad is home, think he left AMA, another story!! You can count on it!!