O, Oh my

A week ago this was my view so let me tell you my view point this evening. First some background, after 2 calls to the rescue squad which I may expound on at some later date, my mother is on a steady dose of benadryl. Also she was up most of the night in the ER. So she's a little shall we say vague? She rolls (walker wise) to the table and the little guy points out, "Grandma, you have a bandaid on your arm still." She does but she can't see it and says no it's gone. He starts talking about bandages falling off and she thinks he is saying "bag" falling off and so she checks. Sure enough there is no bag - I check too and there is nothing where it is supposed to be. Upsy daisy, let's roll back to the bathroom.

Now for some more background. When I was growing up my mother did not believe in any bathroom talk. I wouldn't have even said potty. She wouldn't say "pee" and instead she said "o" (because it was the letter next to p and that struck her as funny -and it still does). One simply didn't discuss what happened in a bathroom. I still can't say the "f" word, I mean the other "f" word. Seriously, I did not know the word for diarhea at the same age she'd taught me how to identify Amanitas and Boletus and the delicious Ink Caps. It does seem a little strange to me now.
But that God, He has such a sense of humor because now I am in the bathroom with that same woman and she sits on the toilet so I can confirm that not only is the pouch not on but neither is anything else (colostomies are complicated let me tell you that) and as she sits I hear... shall we say running water? - and I say, "Mom, did you also forget to put your underwear back on?" and she says, "Sounds like it." And then we both start laughing and I can't stop giggling the entire time I'm putting her gear (hey, that's a new one the colostomy supply ads could use) back on.
The point is, her hearing is still good.