Scene 85
Scene Eighty-five...Lifestyle Changes
Time: Afternoon, Sunday, October 6, 1946
Place: Viridian Hospital
Storyteller: Janet
Lucy is sleeping beside Dad's bed.
Mom appears white and frozen in the corner.
"Paul, stop pacing. You're driving me nuts." I've lost all patience.
Doris is checking Dad's pulse. Her face is dry, but tear stained.
"Betty, don't you have work to do? Like finding Dad's test results?" I ask.
Doc Sasser walks in, all smiles. "It wasn't a heart attack."
The room erupts in cheer. Lucy wakes up, looking confused.
"But you do have early signs of heart disease," continues Doc. "High blood pressure, ankles swollen, shortness of breath."
Everybody is subdued again.
"You're going to have to make some lifestyle changes:
Quit smoking, especially those Camels.
Switch from deep fried foods to grilled.
Work less overtime; better yet, retire."
"Betty will tell you the rest and nag you forever. Now go home and don't forget Lucy."
My dog and I ride home in the Plymouth with the top down. She's next to me on the passenger side, ears blowing in the wind.
Last night I told God I'd quit dancing if Dad had a heart attack. Mom would need my help at home. But today, Doc hinted that Betty's nagging might cure him. So what should I do?
Better ask Mom.
Time: Afternoon, Sunday, October 6, 1946
Place: Viridian Hospital
Storyteller: Janet
Lucy is sleeping beside Dad's bed.
Mom appears white and frozen in the corner.
"Paul, stop pacing. You're driving me nuts." I've lost all patience.
Doris is checking Dad's pulse. Her face is dry, but tear stained.
"Betty, don't you have work to do? Like finding Dad's test results?" I ask.
Doc Sasser walks in, all smiles. "It wasn't a heart attack."
The room erupts in cheer. Lucy wakes up, looking confused.
"But you do have early signs of heart disease," continues Doc. "High blood pressure, ankles swollen, shortness of breath."
Everybody is subdued again.
"You're going to have to make some lifestyle changes:
Quit smoking, especially those Camels.
Switch from deep fried foods to grilled.
Work less overtime; better yet, retire."
"Betty will tell you the rest and nag you forever. Now go home and don't forget Lucy."
My dog and I ride home in the Plymouth with the top down. She's next to me on the passenger side, ears blowing in the wind.
Last night I told God I'd quit dancing if Dad had a heart attack. Mom would need my help at home. But today, Doc hinted that Betty's nagging might cure him. So what should I do?
Better ask Mom.