Avoidance You know when you just don't want to deal with something, you keep putting it off? That's been me the past few days. Like if you don't talk about something, it didn't really happen? I got back from visiting Erin on Sunday. It wasn't the smashing weekend we'd both hoped it would be, though. Friday went well enough, except that Erin wasn't feeling well. We had dinner, went to Trader Joes (yay! But I didn't buy a whole lot), looked at photos from college, played with the kitties. My mom lives about an hour away, so she and my sister wanted to meet up with us Saturday afternoon. Everything looked good. (Except Erin not feeling well. She went to the doctor Saturday morning and came back with antibiotics, cough syrup and an inhaler.) Then a couple hours before mom was supposed to come she called and said she wouldn't be coming. My grandma (aka Mimi) had fallen and mom said she couldn't get her off the floor. So she called the ambulance and they took her to the hospital. A couple hours in the ER and some x-rays revealed what we'd feared: She'd broken her hip. She'd be having surgery the next morning. Erin and I got in the car and headed for the hospital. (What a friend she is to go with me.) When we got there they were just getting ready to take her from the ER into a room. So we followed her up. Mom had to answer some questions, so I stood next to my grandma for a few minutes. She was feeling really nausated and said, "Do you have any Tums?" Huh! "Actually, I do!" I asked the nurse if she could have one (yes), so I fetched my suitcase of a purse (who's laughing now?!) and gave her one and left more just in case. (Turns out they were flavored and she only likes the minty ones. But mom told me that, grandma didn't complain.) In situations like this, where you can't do anything to take away the pain for someone you love, the next best thing was being able to give her something she was asking for. My sister (Jeannie) and her boyfriend came and we all sat in the room while the nurse asked my mom and grandma questions. After a while, mom needed to go home and get some things, so we all walked out together. My sister was parked at the main entrance and mom and I were around back at the ER entrance, so Jeannie said she'd drive us around. (It's easy to get lost in those hospital corridors.) We made fun of her loud muffler as she took us to our cars. Then when we all got out, mom was hugging me. Jeannie had the windows down on her car talking to us. About my license plate. Something like "When people tell me they saw a cool license plate, I tell them no, no. My sister's plate is the coolest..." Meanwhile, mom's still hugging me, thanking me for coming. I'm saying I wish I could stay longer and I'm sorry that I have to leave. Jeannie's still talking. "Mom, Jeannie's still talking." "I know it, honey." And that, my friends, is my family. My grandma had surgery the next morning, which went really well. When I talked to mom yesterday, she said they hadn't gotten her up to walk yet because she'd still been nauseated, but that my grandma really wanted to get up and move around. That's a good sign. We're very optimistic.