I hope everyone had a great Mother’s Day. None of the progeny were here but they all called and that is just fine. HHBL and I went to church for first service and then stopped at one of my favorite small cafés in town for a bit of brunch.
I am still full.
Oh if only that were really true.
But as we were standing there waiting for a table I noticed several women walking out carrying pretty plants, lilies by the look of them. And I thought how nice it was that their families had gotten them flowers.
But imagine my surprise when we sat down and were told that I should remember to take one of the plants when we left as a Mother’s Day gift.
Isn’t it beautiful. Isn’t it lovely. Don’t I just absolutely loath and despise the smell.
Yes, it is true. I cannot abide, I cannot stand, I run in disgust from the smell of lilies. When we got home and I looked at the plant the flower buds were still closed and I remember thinking to myself that I really hoped that this thing didn’t smell like an Easter Lily. But by morning the first flower bud was open and as I came downstairs I could smell it.
Gag, gag, hack.
There is a perfectly good reason for my loathing of the the smell of Easter Lilies. I wasn’t always like this. In fact there was a time in the past when I really enjoyed the smell of Easter Lilies and whatever the above lily is.
But then came Patient “C”. And my love of Easter Lilies was quashed forever.
I may have mentioned before that in a past life I was a nurse. Well, I am still a nurse just not one who practices at the moment. Not that I ever “practiced” on any of my patients. I did know what I was doing!
Oh never mind.
And to be more specific I worked on an Oncology unit, you know, cancer patients. And one year, around Easter time, we had a patient named “C”. She was the nicest lady. The wife of a pastor. And she loved Easter Lilies.
Oh how she loved them. She had them all over the window sill in her room. Her room reeked of Easter Lilies. And normally that wouldn’t have been a problem. Go in, do the nursey thing, go out.
Except not with “C”. Because “C” required some care. Specifically “C” was obsessed with her “peri” care.
Umm, Deb? What is “peri” care?
I was afraid you were going to ask that.
Peri care refers to the cleaning of the perineal area. Or as we refer to it here at Chez Knit….Your “whowho” area.
I cannot believe that I actually wrote that sentence.
But I digress.
And now that I have started this I wish I could just digress right out of here. But I have started this and darn it I am going to finish.
So, “C” was obsessed with her “peri” care. It is rather off putting to walk into the room of a patient and find her, nekkid from the waste down, waving private parts around with a mirror situated in such a way that she could get a really good look “down there”. I mean that area didn’t change from day to day. It looked the same every time I had a gander at it.
And I had a lot of ganders at it unfortunately.
This is why she was in a private room. There might have been some issues if there was a roommate I am thinkin’.
And since I was her primary nurse I had to spend a lot of time in that room. Swabbing the decks so to speak. And surrounded by the smell of Easter Lilies.
And that is why I hate the smell of the things.
So the pretty plant is now out on the table on the deck. I will enjoy it out there because it surely isn’t coming back in here.