Wednesday, July 08, 2009

Good Is Going To Happen

Tonight, I didn't get home from the hospital until 9:45 and I hated leaving. I wanted to be at home, on my couch, cooing at my lovely cats and holding a glass of wine but without leaving Isabella, Neil and Matt. Trout had gone home before I arrived. The new room is wonderfully good: when I arrived, Isabella was taking a shower in the private bathroom without the terror of leaving her husband. When I called earlier, Isabella asked me, "Do you need a drinking partner?" I shifted gears.

Tata: Do you need anything? Are you out of illicit booze?
Isabella: No, come here and be funny.
Tata: As! You! Wish!*

So I showed up in my pajamas, with my laptop full of pictures of adorable Panky and one special thing. When Pete was on his way to pick me up, Isabella finally sat down next to me. Neil said, "Tata brought you something." I pulled a moist ziptop bag from my belongings. I held each leaf under her nose and let her inhale.

Isabella: What? What is it?
Tata: Ah! Here. I brought you some summer. Smell this!
Isabella: It''s...tomato?
Tata: It is! It's a tomato leaf from my garden. This -
Isabella: I don't recognize that.
Tata: It's an unusual lettuce. This -
Isabella: Ooh. What's that?
Tata: This is arugula. This -
Isabella: That's very pretty.
Tata: This is a different lettuce. My garden is full of it. You'll recognize this. It's -
Isabella: Ah, mint!
Tata: This is more lettuce, like before, and this -
Isabella: That's familiar. What is it?
Tata: Basil!
Isabella: I'd know that better if I -

Isabella tore off a leaf, took a deep whiff and popped the leaf into her mouth. Then she laughed.

Isabella: Basil!
Tata: I grow all kinds of crap in my miniscule backyard.

I put the leaves into a paper cup, added water from the bathroom sink and placed the little bouquet on the only surface I could find where cords, bags, medical debris and bedding would not knock over the bouquet. The doctors had just left. Isabella gave them permission to up the morphine dose.

I'm going to need more than basil.

*The Princess Bride quoted with immunity to iocaine powder and without a giant.

Labels: ,


Post a Comment

<< Home