The holidays kept passing
Christmas and New Years
MLK and Groundhog Day
The cycle continued on
Gloves and gowns
Uncomfortable chairs
Forced visits to the waiting room
Eventually we moved hospitals again
This one was supposed to help her
Get off the respirator
Remove the trach tube
Get her walking

It was closer to home
And more family friendly
We could camp out there like we did
At the first hospital
This one even had cable TV
So I could sit and watch Meerkat Manor
With my mother on a Saturday afternoon
The nurses at this hospital
All came from somewhere else
Russia, Poland, China, The Philippines
They spoke passable English
And were
For the most part
Kinder and more emotionally invested
In my mother’s recovery

Slowly
Far to slowly
They weaned my mother off the respirator
We watched her oxygen levels
The way people keep score at a basketball game
Complete with buzzer
Whenever there was a stoppage

The oxygen sensors
With their glowing red LEDs
Would eventually raise blisters
On my mother’s fingers and toes
Making her restless
And panicky

By this point they had long decided that Xanax
Would calm her
But it also seemed to reduce
Here respiration
So the balance led to long bouts
Of anxiety and depression

Sometimes she would call out in a panic
Only to not know
Or be unable to explain
What was causing her so much distress

The new trach didn’t allow her to talk
So she tried to write down her problems
But her motor skills
Weren’t quite good enough
For legibility
Which led to involved guessing games
Most of the time she gave up
With a frustrated shrug
And tried to talk
Which didn’t work out either

We were pretty good with the direct needs
Like lotion for her backside
But she had questions
Esoteric questions
Like what happened to Thanksgiving
That were hard to express

The focus was slowly changing
From mere survival
To recovery
No road ever goes smoothly
But the early false optimism
Was becoming a little more genuine
Home was finally a possibility