Depending on the Kindness of Others

"I have always depended on the kindness of strangers." (Blanche in A Streetcar Named Desire)

It is perhaps ironic that, on the day that my blog post mentioned parent-child relationships when getting old, I spent a large part of the afternoon and evening in the hospital emergency room with my 92-year-old mother. She struggles to maintain her independence, but her mind plays tricks on her. She isn't really forgetful. But she doesn't recognize herself in old family photos. Occasionally she says strange things like, What kind of mirror is that? It doesn't show what's really in the room. And often she misinterprets - or simply disregards - what people tell her. Shortly after returning home from the hospital, for example, she called me to ask if she could remove the splint they had put on her hand. Definitely not, I told her... But by morning, it was off.

We were at the hospital because a gouty knuckle had become infected, and - on the last day of the New Year's long weekend, when doctors' offices and medical clinics had been closed for several days, or perhaps even for the whole period between Christmas and New Year's - the hospital emergency room was the only option available for medical care. So the waiting room was packed.

As I sat there, waiting to see a doctor, reflecting on my blog post of the day, it occurred to me that the suggestions given were only useful if a parent could reason logically...

My mother, oblivious to the fact that the room had been full when we arrived and equally oblivious to PA announcements indicating the arrival of level 2 patients by ambulance, kept insisting: They've forgotten we're here. Go tell the nurse we're here.

No, Mom. They know we're here. They are busy, and we're not a real emergency...

But the experience - sitting there watching people come and go with crying babies, bound-up limbs, chest pain - reminded me how much we depend on the kindness of others. Often friends and family, but occasionally strangers... like a friend of mine who volunteers one day a week driving the elderly to medical appointments.

I watched an older woman leading a blind man. Her husband, perhaps? Another man assisting a woman (his wife?) from a car into a wheelchair, her hand in a sling. Had she fallen on ice?

Everyone was there with someone... I was strangely moved to see so much care and concern cramped in one room. It was a reality check for me to be reminded that no matter how self-sufficient we think we are, we can't always do it alone.