The Beat Goes On...Thankfully

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I visited my Uncle Bill (my Mom’s older brother) today at Tufts Medical Center in Boston. He had quadruple bypass surgery on Tuesday. His daughter, Lisa, had emailed me last week to tell me; and I was quite stunned that he even needed such a thing.

The funny thing is that I never feel my age; thus, it’s hard for me to think of my mom’s brother (“UB” as I will call him hereafter), Bill or her sister, Ethel, as old as they are. That’s why I couldn’t fathom that UB needed this surgery to begin with. UB is not “that old.” I guess it’s good that I err on the side of young always rather than on the side of old.

Anyway, I hate driving into Boston, so I opted to take the T from Alewife (Cambridge, MA). When I am in unfamiliar territory, I’d rather be on foot than in a car. I hadn’t been on public transportation in quite a while, and I love the fact that public transportation is a great people-watching venue.

When I was seated in the car, three giggly girls, who didn’t look much older than high school, got on. Though, from eavesdropping on their conversation, I determined that they were home on Thanksgiving break from college.

One said, “She asked me if Nico and I made out at prom?!?!?!”
The same one answered her own question and responded with, “Noooooooooooooooooooooo!”
They all laughed.
She said, “She told me that she thought everyone made out at prom.”

These three young women were dressed in light-weight coats and one even had flip-flops on. Oh, to be young again and feel warm even when it was only 50 degrees out with 35 m.p.h winds!

Okay, I had no idea what their conversation was all about, but it amused me nevertheless. And, I have no idea what it is about me that makes me love to observe people, their mannerisms, and overhear their conversations. It’s not that I really want to hear the sordid details of their lives, though when I do hear them, I’m intrigued.

I think it’s more about the fact that I like to look at them and imagine in my mind what their lives are all about. Every person has a story, I know, but every person I see is a potential story, even if it’s one I might make up for them!

I also like to look at the advertisements in the train.

Did you know you can get from Boston to NYC for $18 on Peter Pan and they have free Wi-Fi?

Bay State College can help you “Turn what you love into your life’s work.”
Um, I highly doubt that, since I’ve been trying to do that for the last nine months on my own; however; it sounds like a good story.

Fur doesn’t grow on trees. I liked that. I refuse to wear fur. I get rather confused, because I do have leather coats and leather shoes. But, I’m not a vegetarian. But, I have four furry creatures, so I guess I can relate to the fur issue more at this point in time, though at times, I feel like a hypocrite in that regard.

Finally, did you know (Tomas MUST know this already given that it involves the Red Sox and Northeastern University) that the FIRST world series was played at the Huntington Avenue Grounds, which is now part of Northeastern University?!

Anyway, I took the red line to “Downtown Crossing,” stopped in Macy’s to buy UB some Godiva chocolates, and then I walked down Washington Street ‘til I arrived at 800, home of Tufts Medical Center.

I walked in the main entrance, and I found my way to the very teeny tiny reception desk, where a woman sat behind it. I said, “I’m here to see my Uncle.” I gave her his name, and then she told me his room number.

I found it odd that I didn’t have to show ID or wear a badge. Perhaps I had been watching too many episodes of Law & Order lately. Yeah, that’s probably it. Remember, Jean, UB is not recovering from a gunshot wound and testifying against a member of the mob; he had bypass surgery!

I took the elevator to his floor, and then I looked down a very long corridor. I kept walking, walking, and walking. I finally entered the unit, and I went to the desk and again stated my business to a nurse wearing a smock with sunglass-wearing bananas all over it. Yes, really! (No. I didn’t make that up. When I do make sh*t up, I’ll let you know, okay?!) The nurse said, “Go around the corner, walk straight down to 483, and he’s the second bed in the room.”

I thanked her, and I walked down yet another long hallway. If truth be told, I hate hospitals. Yeah, who has “Am good with people and love hospitals” on their resume?! Okay, maybe a nurse or a doctor does. To date, the only three positive hospital experiences I’ve had were two healthy and wonderful children and being shy a set of tonsils, which were the size of tennis balls, that were extracted from my throat at the ripe old age of 25.

When I found UB’s room, I walked in hesitantly. Well, you hate to barge in unexpectedly and see your loved one bending over in one of those hospital gowns, especially when it’s your Uncle! I walked slowly, and I saw a man sitting up in a chair.

“Uncle Bill?”
He look at me, and it seemed he recognized me from the look on his face.
And, then he looked at me again, and he said, “Ooooooooooooooooh, hi!”

I hadn’t seen him in at least two years. Recently, he had inquired how I was doing, and I did my standard bury-my-head-in-the-sand tactic, because I wasn’t doing too well. I had told my cousin, Lisa, how I was doing; however, I told her I would call her Dad and let him know that I was alive, so he wouldn’t worry. Unfortunately, his heart surgery came out of the blue, so there I was. And, he was so glad to see me. You gotta love it when people are glad to see you…and in this case, when you are glad to see them…healthy.

He said, “You look great.”
I said, “Jeez, so do you!”
Other than the scar on his chest, which I got a small glimpse of, he looked terrific. It was so good to see him, and I was so glad that he was okay.

He asked me about the kids, the cats, and the dog, and I told him they were all fine. I asked how he ended up with the bypass, and he told me how he felt things weren’t right on a trip to Maine. He was slated to see his doctor the Tuesday after the trip. Right after the nurse took his vitals, he was whisked off for a cardiac catheterization. Once they saw he had two valves blocked at 85% and another at 100%, it was time for surgery.

He informed me that he was going home today, and that my Aunt and my cousin, Lisa, would be coming to get him in an hour or two. As we chatted and caught up, I told him that it was great he was going home today without any rehab. I said, “Well, you were in pretty good shape.”

He said, “Well, your Aunt didn’t think so. They say that spending most of the day by your laptop or on the couch isn’t exercise.” And I said, “It’s not like you were spending your day by your laptop eating a bag of Fritos!” And UB responded, “Well, I’m not saying that THAT might not have happened every now and then, but it wasn’t all the time!”

I laughed hysterically. And in that moment, I thought, “Why wasn’t it ever this easy to talk to my Dad like this?” And then Uncle Bill said, “You know, we always thought how sad it was that you didn’t lose one parent but you had to lose two like that.”

I didn’t get to see my Uncle a lot when I grew up, but in that moment, I wished I had seen so much more of him, especially in the last two years. He said, “The family has gotten smaller, but it doesn’t mean that we can’t all try to stay together. Your Aunt is in Colorado, but she’d feel the same way.”

Then he said, “So, what do you think about that Facebook? Is that a kid’s thing or what?” I then told him that it was one of the best things that happened to me this year, because I had connected with five women from high school (Cathy, Anne, Marcia, Laura, and Melissa) who I loved so very much then; and Facebook made me realize how much I still do love them and need them in my life.

We then started to talk about our English relatives. UB asked me, “Do you know how hard it is to find ancestry information about a Smith?!” I guess the fortunate thing was that Fred Smith married a Turnbull. Turbull was not as common as Smith. UB had been exchanging letters with a relative in the UK until about two years ago; unfortunately, the letters stopped coming. He thinks that the relative died.

He then told me about his grandkids, one of whom is at Northeastern majoring in criminal justice. He said, “She called her Mom and told her how the autopsy she witnessed was cool.” He said, “Cool? I’m sorry, go away!” He was laughing, but I didn’t dare tell him that I might think it cool, too.

Okay, well, I probably would think it cool on TV, but not in person. Because, then we talked about the fact that my Mom was a nurse and had no fear...ever. Uncle Bill told me how he had twice fainted at the sight of his own blood, and I recalled almost passing out in Hawaii when I skinned my knee on the rocks; Suzebabe can attest to that! Yeah, I’d never survive an autopsy; well, I wouldn’t survive viewing one!

At 4:30, my Aunt, and my cousin, Lisa, came to fetch UB. They were happy to see me, as I was them. Lisa invited me for a girl’s night with my cousins. (UB and my Aunt have four girls.) I gladly accepted. She also invited me for Xmas Eve and Xmas Day.

Thanksgiving here was fine. But, it was missing something. It was missing family. For years, I’ve felt that when my parents died, I lost “family.” But stupidly, I missed the family (UB and his family) that’s been staring me in the face all this time; a family that has been wondering where I’ve been lately, what I’ve been up to, and loving me all along. This Christmas, I’ll try to be there with them. ♥