Trying Hard To Breathe
“The buttons of my coat were tangled in my hair….”* The words to a Taylor Swift song are going through my mind as we push my dad down the doctor’s office hallway. I’m trying to guide the wheelchair with one hand while struggling to take off my green down vest with the other. My sister-in-law gently helps to unravel me and takes the vest as if to say, it will all be okay. This is our first follow up with the neurologist since Dad suffered two massive strokes in November of 2021. Several excruciating months ago, our lives were forever altered, and we are anxious for some answers. We clumsily make our way into the exam room-the two of us plus Dad, the wheelchair, and the nice male nurse who helped with Dad’s transit. We had to leave my niece behind in the waiting room since we are already over our Covid “persons allowed” limit. As we wait, I am quietly humming to myself: “Ooh Ah, Soon You’ll Get Better”* -the heartbreaking song Taylor wrote about her sick mother. It soothes me