Moment by Moment
Mary insisted I wait to enter her room until she put on her lipstick. Her arms were the diameter of the steel pole on which the IV hung. Her goal on the white board: “To get fat.” Her doctor insisted she be hospitalized after her weight dropped to a dangerously low level. She drove herself there. It was clear she considered it all quite an inconvenience. Mary fretted about getting her tax return in the mail. She worried about missing her part-time job because, “They’ll look for any excuse to get rid of you at my age.” Mary lives alone
