The Doctor Sighed

Mom's doctor is one of the best I've ever encountered. He's young, brilliant, funny, and has a great way with words. I'll just call him Dr. Mike because I don't do last names in this blog. He let Mom explain why she wanted the motorized wheelchair and then very politely and sincerely told her that he considered himself a bit lazy when it comes to moving around and if he had an electric wheelchair he wouldn't want to walk any more. He asked if she might feel the same way and Mom, with her sweetest smile, said, "No." Then he shared with her what could happen to her if she stopped walking - stuff like weakness, atrophy and just about everything I've told her the past few times we talked about it. I said nothing, mostly because when I blurted something out early in the dialog, Dr. Mike told me to bite my tongue. I let out a big sigh and then promised to let go of the mouthpiece and let Mom talk.

After the doc's great dissertation on the reasons why Mom shouldn't have a motorized chair, he asked, "OK, Marianne, now that you know all of this do you still want the chair?" Mom said, "YES!" It was Dr. Mike's turn to sigh - big time. He turned to me and said, "If you're writing about this, will you please point out the doctor's big sigh?"

On the way to the car, Mom was in a jovial mood. When she was seatbelted and we were underway back to "the Palace," I asked, "Well, now you have your wish granted and the wheelchair's on its way. What do you plan to do next?" And without skipping a beat, Mom said, "I'm going to Disneyland." Gotta love her sense of humor!