Mya Than Tint - Water Bubbles

On Thursday, October 24, 1963, at four o’clock in the evening, I was in my room at the Hotel Minerva in Rome. I was packing up my papers for the next day when the telephone rang. Bois was calling from Paris. “Your mother has been in an accident,” he said. “I thought she had been hit by a car. She was struggling to get up from the street with a cane. It seemed that she had been hit by a car. “She slipped in the bathroom and broke her hip,” Bois said. Bois lived in the same building as my mother. He said that he and Olga had gone upstairs at ten o’clock the previous night and had seen three people before them, a woman and two policemen. “She’s on the stairs on the second floor,” the woman said. “She’s checking to see if Madame de Beauvoir has had any trouble. She said she fell. Madame de Beauvois was forced to lie on her stomach on the floor for two hours before coming to the telephone. Her acquaintance Madame de Beauvois was called and forced to break down the door from outside. Boss and Olga went with them upstairs, where they found her lying on the floor in a red velvet nightgown. Dr. Lacroix, a female doctor in the same building, said that she had broken her hip. Beauvois was taken to the hospital by ambulance, where she was kept in an ordinary room that night.

“So I sent him to a local pharmacy. There was a doctor there, and he was the best at orthopedics. But the old lady insisted that I not send him. She said it would cost you a lot of money. She agreed after some hesitation,” Bois said.

Oh, it must be, mother. Five weeks ago, when I returned from Moscow, I went to lunch with my mother. She looked as thin as ever. She used to boast that she was young for her age. But now she can't fool herself anymore. | My mother is seventy-seven years old, and she's getting old. | Her arthritis, which she had suffered from since the war, has been getting worse every year. Despite massages and medicines, nothing has changed. Even if she walks around the block for a week, she can't walk for an hour. The pain is so bad that even after taking six aspirin, she can't sleep well at night. For the past two or three years, especially last winter, her eyes have been dark and her face has become very pale. The area around her nose has shrunk. Dr. Dee, the doctor, said it was due to liver failure and constipation, and there was nothing wrong with her. The doctor gave my mother various medicines. He ordered me to take tamarind paste for my constipation. I was not surprised to see my mother well or ill that day . I was only sad that she had not taken a break in the summer. In fact, she should have gone to a small camp in the countryside or to a nunnery to rest, but she seemed to be waiting for my cousin Jean in Marinette to call her, or my sister in Charabanc. When neither of them called, my mother was stranded in Paris. It was raining heavily, and the whole city was deserted. “I have never been weak. But I was very weak then,” my mother said. Fortunately, my sister took me to Eze. By now, her friends had also returned to Paris. I had also returned from my trip around the world. Apart from the broken hip, my mother's health was excellent, her heart condition and blood pressure were normal for a young woman, but I never thought that she would suddenly encounter something like this.

At six o'clock in the evening, my mother's outdoor clinic

So I continued talking on the phone. I said that I would be back home soon, and that I would come to my mother as soon as I got there. My brother didn't believe me, and his voice trembled as he spoke. Dr. B picked up the phone and said that he would be operating on my mother's bone on Saturday morning.

When I returned and went to his bedside, he said, "I can't stay here, I haven't been able to write a single letter for two months."

When I told her that I had recently been separated, and that I had just sent her a letter from Rome, she listened incredulously. Her hands and forehead were burning. Her mouth was slightly open. Her speech was slurred and slurred. She was not very alert, and I did not know whether she had been startled when she fell. Or whether she had fallen because of a slight stroke, I could not say. She was always twitching. (Not always. It was a long time ago. I don’t remember when it happened. My mother often closed her eyes, her eyebrows went up and her forehead furrowed. It had been like that since I had been near her . It didn’t stop for a second. When her eyelids, which were smooth and round, fell down, they completely covered her eyes. The assistant doctor came and said that there was no need for surgery, that the hip was not broken, but dislocated, and that she would be fine in about three months. My mother seemed relieved. She couldn’t remember how she had struggled to get to the telephone, how worried she was, etc. She couldn’t remember how Bos and Olga had cared for her. When they sent my mother to the hospital, she was in her nightgown and had no clothes on. The next day, Olga brought her household items such as toothpaste and toothbrush, a bottle of cologne, and a white wool sweater that she wore to bed. She brought the beautiful baby. When she thanked Olga, Olga said, "No, Auntie, I did it because I love you." My mother often said, " I did it because I love you ."

That evening, Kolgar said, "I'm afraid I'm a burden to others, I'm sorry, I won't be grateful if you do anything for me, I'll break your heart if you see me. "

Olga is also unhappy with Dr. Dee. She says that the doctor is upset because he called Dr. Lacroix instead of her, and that's why she didn't come to the hospital on Thursday.

“I talked to him on the phone for about twenty minutes. It would have been nice if he had come to see me and encourage me, both when I was scared and when I was hospitalized, but he didn’t come.”

Boss said he didn't think my mother had a stroke. She seemed to be in shock when she fell and fell, but she was still conscious, but he doubted she would recover in three months. The broken hip was a minor matter. However, lying in bed for a long time can cause bed sores. It doesn't heal very well for the elderly. Lying in bed is tiring for the lungs. Then pneumonia sets in and it's a serious problem. I'm not that affected. My mother looks frail, but she's very strong. If she's going to die at an old age, she's going to die happily.

My sister also knew because the boss had called her. I called her.

“I don’t feel at all comfortable being alone,” he said. While they were there, my mother had grown old and weak, and she had even said to her husband, Lionel, “I don’t know if she’ll make it through this winter.” One night, my mother had a terrible stomachache. She almost had to be taken to the hospital. But by morning, she was better. When I drove her back to Paris, I found her happy and healthy. She even said that she was calm and light-hearted. But about ten days before the accident, in mid-October, I received a telephone call from Françoise Dieu.

“Your mother just came back from lunch. She is not feeling well and I thought I should warn you,” she said. My sister immediately went down to Paris to find out what was going on and took my mother to a radiologist. After examining the X-rays, the radiologist said, “Don’t worry, there is a lump in her intestine that is blocking it. The intestine is blocked, so the bowels are not moving properly. My mother is not eating well and is malnourished. It’s okay.” She told my mother to eat well and gave her some strong medicine. My sister Poe said, “I am worried. She told me to call someone to sleep with her, but I don’t want to sleep with a woman who is not my relative in her room.” So, my two sisters decided to take my mother to Paris before I went to Prague.

The next day, my mother's mouth was still sore.

Her speech is also slurred. Her round eyelids hang down over her eyes, and her eyes move up and down. Her right arm, which she broke in a bicycle accident about twenty years ago, is no longer well. This time, her left arm is also injured, and she can no longer move both arms. Fortunately, however, my mother is receiving good care. Her room at the hospital is away from the road, so there is no noise or noise. There is also a park in front, so the view is good. The bed has been moved closer to the wall, so it is also close to the telephone on the wall. My mother does not lie down. She sits up with her head on a pillow. Sitting up helps her lungs work better. My mother's air mattress is connected to an electric machine, so it inflates and deflates, so she feels like she is being massaged. It is designed to prevent bed sores. This morning, a physiotherapist came to my mother and gave her leg exercises. This, as Boss said, seemed to prevent strokes. A friend of his had cut up meat and given him food, and the food was good, he told me, with a smile on his face. In fact, they don't give him that kind of food in the hospital. They only give him raw pudding and potatoes. I was surprised that they give raw pudding to sick people. The next day, my mother was more talkative than usual. She would tell me how she had to crawl on the floor for two hours to get to the telephone that day.

"It's nice to have a telephone nearby, but I have to tell Madam Marshon, who lives alone like me, I can't afford it, I have to go to the telephone ." My mother often said that.

"If those phones hadn't reached me, I would have died that day."

My mother was talking on the phone, but I didn't think she could shout for the other person to hear. I thought about my mother's suffering. My mother was a devout person. But even though she was old and frail and nearing the end of her life, she was very attached to human life. She was as afraid of death as animals are of dying. My mother often told my sister about a dream she had.

"I ran after him. I was so tired. Finally, I saw a big wall and I had to run up it. I couldn't jump from the wall to the other side. I didn't know he was coming after me. I was scared. Don't tell me, I'm not that scared of dying. I'm scared of jumping off."

My mother told my sister. As she was crawling on the floor, she seemed to think it was time for her to jump.

“I think Mom was really hurt when she fell,” I asked.