Image by Schweerchichi via Flickr
My mother is now retired, and living in New Mexico, the picture above was taken from her front yard. She is in the process of writing her memoirs, and they are fun indeed. She has had an interesting life, growing up for a good portion of it in Columbia South America. My Grandfather was a Dam Engineer, and traveled quite a bit. He was able to take his family with him on some of those larger construction jobs. I hope someday, she will let me post some of her memoirs here for everybody to enjoy.
I’ve told many a story about my father here, now for a little about my mother. She was a registered nurse, and worked in the local hospital, back when there was a real hospital in town. It was not very big, if I remember right, is was only six rooms on each side. One side being the hospital rooms, the other side, nursing home rooms. There was an Emergency Room slash Operating Suite, OB/Nursery, X-ray machine, Laboratory, Kitchen, everything your would expect in a hospital. The Doctor, yes one and only one, was our neighbor, and Mother was the Head Nurse. After Doc Mac died, she became the director of the facility.
Being our mothers children, we had the run of the hospital. I sometimes wonder if the staff enjoyed our company as much as they acted like they did, or if we were just a pain in the butt . I know the seniors liked us, for they seemed to look forward to our regular visits. I can still remember rolling one or two of them into the day room to watch television or play a game of checkers. I used to love to sit and listen to their stories, and imagine what it had been like in their time. We were young, and I imagine a good source of a laugh or two. I can also remember a few wheel chair races between my brother and I, being cheered on by staff or one or two seniors.
Mom and Dad were a big part of the Ambulance service in the area. Mom was an instructor for EMT’s. Before I was 12, I attended more training classes for EMT’s than most of them on the job now. The fun part was when we got to take part in the training. That was usually in the form of being a victim. My sisters, brother and I were the predominant victims at most of those classes. We had been bandaged, splinted, and back boarded, more than anyone could possible imagine. We became quite talented at showing the EMT’s the easy and correct ways to do many of the tasks required. There were times when Mom would set up mass casualty training for different agencies. We would get to play the part of victims, complete to full make up, with bones sticking out and blood all over.
The funny thing is that for as much time as I spent hanging around hospitals as a youngster, I cannot stand them now. There is something about the atmosphere, smells, and feelings of a hospital that drive me crazy. Now I avoid hospitals as much as possible, sometimes to my own detriment.