We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
This time, she fractured her right hip. Emergency hip replacement today. I'll be busy joining the family rotation to help out Dad, cook casseroles, and to keep her company.
She requested no flowers to be sent to her hospital room so it would not feel like a funeral. She's the sort of person who, when you visit her in the hospital, feels she has to entertain you regardless of pain. Old Yankees do not do self-pity.
A post today at NYM reminded me of my Mom's champion riding career. (She was also a champ trap and skeet shooter.) When I was young, she still had a show jumper and a hunter at the farm, but by the time there were five of us kids she had no time for it, and her horses were getting old - I've told readers in the past about how old Jimminy Cricket would mosey over to the kitchen door, push open the screen door, and try to get his tall shoulders through the kitchen door. Mom had been coached, for a time, by the great Bill Steinkraus.
Her favorite thing to do was the hunt. I joined her on a couple of them when I was around 9 or 10. I have not been on a hunt since then, but have messed with plenty of horses since then in New England, Ireland, Montana, and New York City. That's a good sequeway to the post about The Scarteen Hunt in Ireland.
My mom's 90. She started to have some pretty severe health problems at 85, but is surprisingly cheerful. Housebound, but cheerful. Old age really is a lot how you choose to regard that proverbial glass.
And I have to give a shout-out to modern medicine and Big Pharm. My mother would be totally bedridden without Viagara. It can perk up the blood vessels all over the body. I was surprised when it was prescribed, and I don't know how often this is done, but for her type of circulatory issue, it is a miracle drug.
Sorry to hear of her pain, my wishes for a quick recovery.
Attitude is everything, my mother is 85 and in remarkably good heath but her disposition is negative and consequently she makes herself and everyone around her miserable. My sisters won't even come by anymore.
My late wife suffered severe complications from a stroke twenty years ago, but was always cheerful and happy until the day she died.
My mom's hip, too. She's up on all the hep cat jazz.
Fortunately, she's fine at ninety, although she did her ankle no good at all a dozen years ago, falling off the dining room table... I told you she's hip... but two plates and fourteen screws later her leg is functional.
Sorry to hear of your Mom's setback, I hope she rebounds equally well. A little looking after by the family may do her some good, despite her Yankee independence.
I join the others in wishing Mom a speedy recovery. How long would it have taken the Canadian or UK system to schedule her for hip replacement surgery? Given her age, would they have gotten her scheduled at all?
Best wishes to your mother. Such events where everyone has to slow down a bit lend themselves to good times for storytelling, bringing back memories that might otherwise be lost to the next generations. She sounds like she might have some good ones.
--no need to say it but, if mom and dad are gone off to the great beyond, you'd find that you would give practically anything for another five minutes with them, sitting around the kitchen table drinking coffee.