So, Mom wasn’t feeling quite right. We were supposed to
catch our flight at about 4pm. I was dreading the long flight home with Boop.
We had planned to make a quick trip to get some souvenirs for folks back home
before heading out. Mom was getting more and more ill. So, I had been wanting
Vietnamese and headed out to Little Vietnam, but the area was still asleep.
There wasn’t much in the way of restaurants, anyway. There was much in the way
of urine and pot smell, unfortunately, and the street folk were just starting to
rouse. One little restaurant, I walked in and asked if they had a menu. The
woman looked at me like I was crazy and said flatly, ‘No.’ Closer to the hotel,
I found a place that was chock full of Vietnamese folk and managed a very good
meal.
 |
| Chinatown, a couple of days before Mom got sick |
When I returned, Mom was worse—couldn’t stand the smell of
my food. So, Boop and I quickly noshed, and the two of us made a quick trip to
China Town to pick up a few things, mostly for Mom’s work. <Hm. This seems
familiar. Wasn’t I getting her souvenirs in New Orleans last year?> Mom was
pretty confident that this would pass. I told her to call her doctor to get a
script. She said she didn’t have a primary care doctor right now. <I was at
a public health conference. Maybe there’s some irony there?> Boop and I
hurried back. We needed to leave for the airport in an hour or so, but Mom was
getting worse. Mom finally agreed to go to the ER, but she wouldn’t go by
ambulance. The hotel desk kept offering to get a doctor-on-call. What? Do I
look like I’m made out of money? However, they eventually offered the name of
the closest ER, and security came upstairs with a wheel chair. I was burning up
the phone lines with the hotel and the airlines. Good there’s a flight at 10
tomorrow; so we will only be home a half day late. Winnie can manage that, I
thought.
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