Hope for Mel

As she stood by the bedside trying not to focus on the lines, tubes, and monitors, Frieda asked about Mel’s condition.

“So, you say there’s hope for him, Gloria?”

Frieda addressed the ICU nurse by the name on her badge.

“Yes, Mrs. Fromkin. There’s always hope when there’re that many lines and tubes going into someone.”

“So there’s hope you can get him off the ventilator?”

“There’s always hope. We’ll get him off soon. I mean, he wasn’t born on a ventilator, was he?”

Edith didn’t want to think about Mel’s birth or any time that far back.

Had it been 68 years already?

That’s right… Mel was going to be 68, and in three more days. With his hospitalization and all, she’d lost track.

It would be a relief of sorts not to celebrate his birthday this year at home. She wouldn’t have to buy any Argyle socks for him at the last moment. She could cancel the invitation to Mel’s sister, Francine, and her brother-in-law, Ed. She wouldn’t have to hear Ed again say – “Another year down the drain, huh, Mel.”

There’d be no reason to ask them to stop by the hospital either, considering Mel’s condition.

“So there’s hope he’ll be on the ventilator at least another three days, Gloria?”