Greetings from the Flipside by Rene Gutteridge

Author:Rene Gutteridge
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Christian Fiction, General
Publisher: B&H Publishing Group
Published: 2013-06-04T16:00:00+00:00

9

I brought you a little something to eat,” Bette said, carrying a food tray into the room.

“Bette, that is so kind. You didn’t have to do that. I brought some tuna.”

“I know you did. And trust me, I want you to keep on using it. The guy next door woke up from a traumatic brain injury yesterday and I’m halfway convinced it was your tuna.”

Jake laughed. “That smelly, huh?”

“That’s what we need. We can’t make loud noises so we’re forced to keep the needles and the tuna up. But I figured you’d like something else.” She set the tray down on the ledge with the cards. “Not promising it’s any good, but there’s some Jell-O and a nice, buttery roll there.”

“You seriously don’t have to bring me food. I feel like I’m in the way half the time.”

Bette’s expression turned serious. “Jake, I don’t mean to get personal here, but I think you’re the only thing keeping this girl from sinking so far away that we lose her. A mother’s love can go far, but this mother’s love is far out. Lovely lady, otherwise, but if she screams “hallelujah!” with no forewarning one more time, I’m going to be moving some people to the cardiac unit, if you know what I mean.”

Jake laughed. He watched her take Hope’s pulse and blood pressure, writing down her vitals in a chart that was getting thicker by the day.

“Bette?”

“Yeah?”

“You look tired.”

She glanced at him, tried a quick attempt to smooth out the ponytail that seemed like it probably never even came down. Two mismatched clippies held a few stray hairs, but mostly everything fell in her face anyway.

“I don’t mean to pry, but you take care of everyone around here. I see you helping the patients, other nurses, and now patient visitors.” Jake glanced at the food tray she brought in. “Who takes care of you?”

Bette didn’t answer for a long time. She tightened some tubes, used a syringe to put medicine into Hope’s IV. Jake looked down. Maybe he’d said too much.

“My mother.”

“Your mother takes care of you?”

“No. I take care of my mother.” She didn’t look up. It was like she felt ashamed to even mention it. She kept busy, changing the bed pan and tucking the sheets, as she spoke. “She’s got the beginning signs of dementia. Not sick enough for twenty-four-hour care, but sick enough that she can’t live alone anymore.”

“What a noble thing to do.”

Bette looked at him. “Honey, it’s not noble. She’s my mother. How could I not? And this is my job. How could I not care about this sweet woman in this bed?”

“Not everyone has a Bette in their lives, but I know they wish they did.”

She went to the sink to wash her hands. “It’s been hard. I’m a single mom. My son is sixteen. I worry about him all the time. And now I’ve got my mom living with us. Sometimes it’s hard to find time to just go to the store or the money to buy the extra things we need.

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