Emma smiled and nodded. As she sipped on the juice, she realized Kent had told the truth—she was getting full! Looking up, she saw a wall clock. I hope I’ll be hungry in three or four hours. She pushed up with her good leg and reached for her book. Opening it to the last page she’d read, she entered the fun of a comedy mystery.
“Hey, what’s your name?”
Emma looked up, seeing a young woman who appeared to be her age. “Emma Lapp. What’s yours?”
“Meg. I just had an appendectomy yesterday. You?”
Emma smiled. “I just had weight-loss surgery. I’ve tried to lose this weight for so many years.”
“Hey, I understand. My mother finally had the surgery two years ago.”
“Oh! How is she?
“She’s doing well. She’s lost most of the weight and she looks fantastic.”
Emma felt much better, hearing that. “How much does she eat a day?”
Meg smiled. “Nothing like what she used to eat. Little meals all day. She can't have oatmeal cookies anymore, which was a challenge for her, but she stayed strong. Then, she’ll have a salad with olive oil for lunch, and a glass of milk. Then, some apple slices with peanut butter for a snack, and for dinner she’ll have a small piece of meat with vegetables.”
“Wow...”
“Emma, can I ask a question?”
“Ja, what is it?”
“I hear a German accent in your speech. Are you Amish?”
Emma felt for her prayer cap. “Ja, I am.”
“I’ll get your cap for you. You shouldn’t try to stretch too much. It’ll hurt.” Carefully, Meg got out of bed and walked over to Emma’s bedside table, where she found the head covering.
“Thank you. Is there a brush in there?”
“Oh, don’t worry about the hair. You’re going to want to nap and you should be comfortable.”
Reluctantly, Emma put the cap on over her hair, which fell down around her shoulders. “That’s true.”
Dinner was brought in shortly after five. By now, Emma was beginning to feel early hunger pangs. Taking the cover off of her bowl, she found plain chicken broth, steaming hot. A cup of hot water was on her tray, along with a teabag, decaf, which she put into her cup. A small bowl held pureed pears. Picking up her spoon, Emma steeped her tea, and then added Splenda. She slowly ate her broth, savoring the taste. Realizing she was already feeling full, she set the broth to the side and began eating her pears. By the time she finished, she was as full as though she had eaten one of her mother’s meals. When the nurse came back for the trays, she asked if she could keep her cup of tea. “I’m really full right now and, if it’s possible, I’d like to enjoy the tea a little later.”
“That’s fine. We can come back. But you may be surprised. You’ll feel full for a while.”
A part of Emma was surprised and happy; another part of her was apprehensive. “Nurse, will my body react differently now that I’ve had this surgery?”
The nurse instinctively understood Emma’s question and her fears. “Not really. Obviously, you’ll feel full sooner. You’re going to have to watch how much you eat at each meal so you don’t make yourself sick. You’ll start taking liquid vitamins in the morning—liquid, because the pill form can be really hard on your stomach.”
“Is the liquid form something that all doctors do?”
“No, it’s an individual choice. While you’re going to recover and do well, we don’t want it to be any harder than it has to be. That’s why he prescribes a liquid vitamin. You’ll have to take it all your life.”
Emma felt better. “Okay. I think I’ll read until my family comes in.” She read in between chatting with her roommate. When seven o’clock rolled around, she smiled, seeing her sister, parents and Jacob come in.
“How are you?” Ann looked closely at Emma.
“Gut! I ate supper already.”
“What did you have? Hopefully, not the meatloaf.” Jacob’s grin made Emma want to laugh.
“Nee! Chicken broth, hot tea and pureed pears.” Emma indicated the half-full cup of tea, which she sipped from. "Better than the shakes."
Ann gasped. “Is that all? A bird couldn’t live on that! Well, maybe someone recovering from illness could. I’m going to go to the...” Ann stood, only to be stopped by Jacob and Emma.
“Mam, no. That’s all I could eat. Remember, my stomach is much smaller now. If I try to eat a regular-size meal, I’ll get very sick.”
“Missus Lapp, remember, her goal is to lose the extra weight.”
“Ma’am, I’m Meg, your daughter’s roommate. It’s true. My own mother had the same surgery two years ago. It took only one mistake for her to realize that she can only eat so much food before her stomach literally rebels. I’ll be leaving in a day or two. But I’ll be happy to teach Emma what my mother has learned.”
“Oh, hello. Ann Lapp. Denki for your offer. It’s very kind. I’m just going to need to adjust. It seems that broth, puree, those itty bitty meal shakes, and tea is a very small meal, not enough to nourish her.”
“The broth is homemade—well, hospital made. It’s full of vegetables and nutrients Emma needs. She also starts to take a liquid vitamin in the morning. She’s going to get all the nutrition she needs. And she’ll lose weight at a safe, healthy rate as well.”
Emma turned as she heard her rambunctious nephew come running into the room.
“Mam, I want to play with auntie’s crutches! I don’t want to stay in the waiting area!” Michael’s voice was shrill as he argued.
Barbara tried to coax him back into the hallway, only to be jostled out of the way by a male nurse.
“Ma’am, is this your son? He isn’t supposed to be in the patient’s room. You need to get him back into the waiting area.”
“Michael, come on! You heard the man.” Barbara was mortified. Her ability to control her children was neutralized here. She didn’t feel as though she could use her usual parenting practices in public.
“Nee! I won’t!” Michael ran around the room until he found the crutches. Grabbing them, he began scotch hopping from area to area, evading Barbara—until he worked up so much speed that he couldn’t stop. With his legs cartwheeling under him, Michael ran headlong into Meg’s rolling tray, sending it flying. “Mam! Ow, I’m hurt!” He began to scream, frightened at the noise and what he’d done.
The nurse was fed up. Glaring at Barbara, he scooped Michael up, holding him under his arms and ignoring the kicks on his outer leg. “Ma’am, come with me, now!”
As the nurse left the room, carrying Michael, the floor’s head nurse came hurrying in. “What is going on here? It sounded like World War III in here.” Looking at a young Amish child dangling in the arm of one of her best nurses, her gaze centered like a heat-seeking laser on Barbara. “Well?”
“Meryl, this child and his mother were in the family visitor area when he came running in here. His mother followed. I came in just after he grabbed Miss Lapp’s crutches and began trying to use them. He couldn’t stop and he ran straight into a tray table and hurt himself.”
“Ma’am, do you care to explain your son’s behavior?” Meryl was tough and stood for no disorder on her floor.
“Uhh...I told him to stop and come with me? I tried to get—”
“Are you asking me a question or telling me what happened?”
Barbara was flustered, flipping her hands up and down. “Nurse, I tried to grab him! I did!”
The male nurse let out a sarcastic snort. “Her directions to him weren’t effective—at all.”
Meryl crooked one finger at Barbara and the nurse. “Come with me. I’ll dress his wound. And you and your family are banned from this hospital unless you are patients.”
Barbara gasped. “But my sister!” She gestured toward Emma.
“You should have thought of that before you allowed your son to create havoc on my hospital floor.” The hard words floated behind Meryl as she hurried toward a spare gurney. “Put him there, Scott.” After finding a grazed area of skin on Michael’s knee, Meryl jerked his pant leg back down. “He isn’t hurt. He grazed his knee. Now, who else from your family is here?”
Barbara pointed back to Emma’s room. “My parents...and my husband, daughter and other son are in the waiting room.”
“Okay. You two, wait downstairs. Scott, you wait with them. I’ll have the other nurses cover your patients until visiting hours are over.” Returning to Barbara, Meryl continued. “Your husband and other kids can stay up here, since they obeyed our posted signs.”
“Ma’am, come with me. And take your son.”
Barbara was mortified. All the way down to the first floor, she tried to figure out how the situation had gotten so out of control. Finally, they were on the first floor. Barbara sank to a comfortable chair, holding tightly to a wriggling Michael. The nurse sat across from her, just watching her son wiggle.
“Ma’am, what’s your name?” The nurse had an idea and he wanted to get Barbara on his side.
“Why should I tell you?”
“Listen, I’m sorry that this happened. But I have an idea of what may have led to it and I’d like to discuss this with you.”
Barbara was exhausted. Every day, she went to bed, worn out by Michael’s antics. Even though she felt that nothing helpful would come out of the nurse’s idea, she decided to play along. “Barbara Anderson. Call me Missus Anderson.”
“Thank you, Missus Anderson. I’ve been watching your son. Is he always this active?”
Barbara stared at the nurse, not sure if his intentions were good or not. “Ja, he is. From the minute he gets up until he falls asleep at night.”
“Is he in school?”
“Ja.”
“What does his teacher say?”
“I don’t know that I like her. She says his activity is beyond normal ranges. She sends reports home almost every week, telling me that he’s done this or that. Michael, get over here, now!” The child had broken free of Barbara’s arms.
Reluctantly, he obeyed, knowing he was in big trouble again.
“Okay, there’s not much time left for visiting hours. I want to tell you that your son’s teacher may be right. There’s a condition called Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder—ADHD. Looking at Michael, he has at least one symptom down pat. Has he been like this consistently for more than six months?”
Barbara huffed. “Ever since he was a boppli.”
Michael was only dimly aware the adult conversation was about him. Sitting next to his mam, he was bored! Looking around him, he looked for something he could do or get into. When the big man sat next to him, he pouted, knowing he’d been stopped.
“Okay, so, now that I see the same thing his teacher sees, I’d like to offer one more suggestion. Now, I don’t know how the Amish schools deal with this, but if you and his teacher are willing to fill out some forms that discuss his behaviors and activity level, he can get tested. If it turns out he has ADHD, would you be willing to give him medicine that can help him to calm down just a little bit?”
Barbara thought about that. Heaven's yes! “Ja, sure.”
“Okay, one last question. How are his grades?”
Barbara was beginning to connect the dots. “Sometimes gut and sometimes bad. It seems to depend on his mood.”
“Okay, visiting hours are already over and your family will be coming downstairs soon. I’m going to go to another department and get the forms. I’ll give them to your sister to take home to you. If he does have ADHD, Missus Anderson, the medication can help.”
“But only if he does, ja? I don’t want to have him take it if he doesn’t have anything wrong.”
“I understand. I feel the same way. Some of the medications are strong, so we want to give them only to those who really need them. There are also ways he can learn how to cope with his need to be so active. Talk therapy and learning how to use coping skills. Here’s your family. I’ll get those papers.”
“Denki.” Barbara accepted the nurse’s hand. Finally, someone had seen into the struggles she had!
“What were you talking about?”
“The nurse believes that Michael might have some condition that makes him as active as he is. He can be tested for it.”
“Hmm. He’s a healthy kid. He’s not sick.”
“Nee. I don’t really understand it. He can’t help what he does sometimes. There’s supposed to be medicines and ways of showing him how to handle how active he is.”
“I know one method now,” John growled. “Michael, get over here.”
Michael knew he was in trouble. Slowly, he walked over to his grandpa. “Ja?”
“What did you pull in there?”
“I don’t know. I just wanted to play with auntie’s crutches. They look fun.”
John was tempted to spank Michael, but knew this wasn’t effective. “You had better behave from now on. I can give you extra work to wear you out, if you want that.”
“Nee! I’ll behave. I’ll try.” Michael already knew that he would have a hard time obeying the adults.
“Michael.” Barbara flipped her hand sharply at him.
Sighing, Michael slipped his hand into his mother’s.
“Barbara, what did the nurse say about Michael’s actions? I heard her say something about being banned.” Ann’s voice was low.
“Ja. Unless he and I are patients here, we can’t come into patient areas. We can only stay down here, which apparently means I can’t visit Emma.”
“I’m going to your house tomorrow. Emma won’t be home until Sunday afternoon. I want to find out what happened and why you didn’t control your son in her room.”
Barbara quailed under Ann’s glare. “Ja. Okay.”
The ride home was quiet. Michael was uncharacteristically silent, knowing he’d messed up in a big way. Looking up at his dat, he knew he was mad.
***
On Sunday, Emma sat down, favoring her sore abdomen and leg. She was finding it easier to get around, as long as she didn’t exert too much pressure on her stomach.
“Okay, so these instructions say you can have the shakes now. You will be eating those, broths, liquids and pureed foods only for the next 2-3 weeks. Also, you have to take the liquid vitamins every morning for the rest of your life. Are you listening?"
"Ja." Though she'd heard these instructions many times, Emma still found herself a bit overwhelmed, but she understood.
"We have a follow up with your doctor scheduled in two weeks so we'll know when you can get some solid food into you instead of these broths and shakes." Her mam gave the list a firm shake. "When you get the okay, I’m going to make things easier and when you move to solid foods make sure that we all stick with lean meats and vegetables, and have low carbohydrate sides so that you don't feel left out at mealtimes.”
Emma was touched, especially knowing how difficult all of this was on her mam. She had gone from resisting even the concept of changing her cooking habits to reworking her entire meal plan to include Emma's needs. “Denki, Mam. It's gut." She swallowed. "You and Dat will also lose weight.” Emma was reading other papers, listening to Ann as well.
Barbara heard the tail end of what Emma had said. “Lose weight? Mam and Dat don’t need to lose weight!”