Her annual appointment with her cardiologist was this afternoon. He was the doctor who admitted her to Hospice almost three and a half years ago.
He walked in, gave her a big grin, and said “Last appointment on a Friday afternoon, and it’s Esther Freeman. Couldn’t get any better!”
He had a med student with him. “Now, Mrs. Freeman has severe mitral valve prolapse, so you should have no trouble hearing the very distinctive sound.”
The student listened. Doc listened. Shook his head, and said, “You’re made of stuff that’s hasn’t been on the market for years! I expect to hear a roar, and all I hear is a swish.”
There you have it, folks. Ninety-six next week and she’s just “swishing.”
I hadn’t seen her for two weeks. We never made it to the concert July 3 because of her stomach/intestinal upset, which has bothered her for days. Then I was gone for a weekend and took the next week to recover. (personal note: 23 hours travel in two and a half days is more than I can handle). The last few days she has complained of dizziness.
I had expected her to look worn out, but she was bright eyed and bushy tailed. After supper I asked if she had room for dessert. “Whatcha got?” was her reply. I reminded her that when I was a child she had said that my “meat and vegetable stomach was full, but there must be lots of room in my dessert stomach.”
Hey, it worked then!