Go, Non, Go!

This was awesome:

It’s Thursday (the day before yesterday). I got to the hospital around 7:30pm to visit my just-about-to-turn 94 year old grandmother, who had been admitted earlier in the day after a fall.

She fractured her elbow, which was wrapped in a temporary cast until surgery (which is scheduled for today), and a broken pelvis, which I know nothing about other than it’s a lot better than a broken hip.

I know, that’s a helluva set up. Hang in there:

In walks the doctor, who is extended family. He says hi to Non (whom I’m guessing, a long time ago, before I was born, was Nana to someone for about 5 minutes). He waves to me, my parents, and my cousin, who happen to be there at that moment. He asks the patient how she’s feeling. (“Fine, you know… could be better…”) Then he asks her what medicine she’s on. She says—this was classic, I’ve written this as close to verbatim as I can remember:

“OK, hang on a sec, lemme think… there’s a lot of them… Baby aspirin, calcium pills, a multivitamin… and that stuff for the reflux. Prevacid.”

Then she looked up expectantly at the doctor to make sure he got the whole list.

Well, we all crack up. No one else in the room can make it through a round of golf without 4 Advil, and she’s on baby aspirin for a fractured body.

God love her.

Dr. Milner says, “The ER doctor says you were in a lot of pain when you came in.”

Non—aka Zelda—corrects him. “No, that’s not true.”

“How’s your pain, would you say, on a scale of 1 – 10?”

“Oh, I don’t know, not that good. Maybe a 10.”

My eyes pop. It’s too much! This woman!

My cousin jumps in: “Non, a ’10′ is when you’re screaming, you’re eyes are watering…”

I help him out: “Yeah, Non, when your pain is a ’10,’ you can’t actually say ’10.’”

For what I hope are ridiculously obvious reasons (innocence among them), Non is one of my heroes. She’s going strong at 93 and three quarters. Still drives, still snowbirds in Arizona, still sees all her grandkids regularly, still works. Does the mail for another cousin of mine. (And she’s faster than anyone—she earns her keep.) She still dances, too, at weddings, events, and at restaurants for no reason at all.

My friends all know her from growing up. She’s an icon. Once, maybe 14 years ago, when those mini backpacks were all the rage, I was in downtown Highland Park and I saw a teenager wearing one, across the street. I commented to my girlfriend and future wife, “Look across the street at that girl. There’s something about her. She doesn’t carry herself like a teenager. That’s a girl with a lot of spirit, a lot of self-confidence. You can see it all the way from over here, just from the way she walks.” Or something to that effect.

And you know what my girlfriend said in response?

“Uh, you’re kidding, right? That’s your [80 year old] grandma.”

I called out, “Zelda!!!” Yep. Sure enough, guess who turned around.

An 80 year old teenager.

Screw “can” and “can’t.” To hell with “should” and “might.” And don’t even take “worry” out of the box.

Please.

Baby aspirin.

For a fractured elbow and broken pelvis.

And we were complaining about… what?

Go get ‘em, Non… I know I speak on behalf of 4 generations of Seidens and Barskys and extended families on every side and friends galore when I say:

WE LOVE YOU!

Now please get better fast so when I give you a hug you can hug me back, thanks!

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Tagged as: Seiden, Zelda