Wednesday, February 9, 2011


Every time someone tells me what I should have done or ought to do, my inner monster arises. His name is "Mongo" and I can usually keep him on a short leash. Sometimes Mongo escapes and I have to put him back in his cage. Then I put my fingers in my ears and sing "La, la, lala," to drown out the provoking words.

Last week I tried out something new. CJ had to be rushed to the nearest ER with acute heart failure. The paramedics, the ER staff, and the intensive care people performed with peak efficiency and saved his life. Today he is in rehab, walking down the hall with a cane, flirting with his therapist.

Yesterday, one of his friends told me that I should have insisted on taking him to a different hospital. That I ought to have known which was the better heart facility, etc. I simply agreed with him. He didn't know what in the world to say next. Mongo was jumping up and down, wanting a fight. He urged me to tell the idiot friend that he didn't know what he was talking about. I should have defended the chosen hospital and raved about the wonderful care they provided. I told Mongo he should mind his own business, and the next time he told me what I "should" do I would slap him up side the head.