Sunday night’s sleep was choppy, to say the least. My brother Trevor and I both went to sleep with the knowledge that our mom’s night was going to be a lot rougher than ours, though, what with her spending the night in the hospital. Monday morning we got ourselves together and headed over to the hospital again. She looked good, considering the *fun* of the day before, but obviously she was tired and HUNGRY, having been put on a clear liquids diet. We are a Sprite family, but you can only take so much after awhile.
The doctor had made his rounds after we had left the night before, and although they’d have to run some tests to confirm an exact diagnosis, he suspected as she did that it was diverticulitis or colitis. MAJOR sigh of relief that it wasn’t something really serious. But still, a downer because the doctor wasn’t planning on letting her go that day.
Trevor had already planned on taking the day off of work that day and hanging out with me, so we decided to go to the Pink Palace Museum, a place where we had spent countless hours growing up in Memphis. It’s essentially a Mid South history museum housed in a mansion that was built by the founder of Piggly Wiggly grocery stores. He never actually lived in it, though, because he went bankrupt before it was completed.
I love this place because so little has changed there from when I was a kid. There’s still a pair of Civil War-era mannequins, one getting his leg amputated on the battle field by the other. Morbid and awesome. There’s still an incredible handmade model of a circus that comes to life once a day. There’s still a shrunken head. There’s still a true-to-size triceratops named Rollo, but he’s gotten so old that you can no longer insert a quarter and have him stomp and grunt.
Most of the Pink Palace still has that great 80s, PBS-ish feel to it, but it’s not rundown or sad in any way. It just makes me feel safe.
I was dragging, so after Mexican food at Cafe Ole, Trev and I headed back home to rest. Well, for ME to rest; Trevor went to the gym. My brother is massively health-conscious and spends more hours working out each week than I probably do in an entire non-pregnant month. He’s in amazing shape and it never ceases to amaze me that someone who I’m related to is capable of being as buff as he is.
I checked in with my mom later that afternoon and even though she was in a state of ennui due to her immobility and Spriet (“Sprite Diet”, get it?! HAR HAR HAR), she was feeling better and optimistic that she’d get to go home the next day (which, in an effort to not keep you hanging on too much longer, she DID.)
For dinner, Trevor and I met our aunt Jaye and cousin Maddie at Macaroni Grill. Let me just tell you how much I freaking LOVE being related to these two ladies. Kinship is a very real thing when it comes to us, so spending any amount of time with them is a treasure. Maddie was born when I was right around the same age that Jaye was when I was born, so I’ve been able to ponder in amazement at how Maddie is growing up. It blows my mind that she’s about to be twelve. I guess this is what happens when kids grow up so I’d better buckle up for the ride that Bebe will take us on.
The day wiped me out. And I still had a freaking job interview the next day. Whee……