You don’t remember me

Sunday Blog 109 – 5th November 2023

Yesterday I had the opportunity to refresh the creative well, responding to flash prompts. Here is one I felt the urge to share – flash memoir from the blur of recent hospital visits

“You don’t remember me, do you?” She called to me across the room. Once. Twice. But  I was focussed on mum. The medication rounds, waiting like a cat to pounce on the doctor-mouse whenever she ventured in mum’s room.

Three days earlier I’d wheeled mum in, followed the orange line to the lift. The first floor.

When can we find our way out of here again, doctor?

Mum is now Betty 2, because the other woman she’s sharing a room with is also Betty. A rag of a curtain separates the beds and pretends it can muffle sound.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” Betty 1 called again. This time I trill.

“Of course!” Betty 1 smiles and relaxes.

But Betty 1’s husband whips his head around the curtain and glares at me.

“You don’t know her, do you?”

“No” I admit. Betty 1’s face falls. I don’t know Betty 1, and now, neither does she.

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *