April's Real Blog

Saturday, October 20, 2007

Michael's effect on Gramps

So, Mike's been over 2 Grandpa Jim's hospital room 2 wave Stone Season in his face:

Formerly little sis. Sometimes a son has to do what his mother asks him to do, even if it is against his will. You may remember mom and Connie Poirier went over to talk to Iris about how when Connie was a single mom she was slutty, as a way of helping Iris out. Mom popped up to the house today for her free copy of my book Stone Season, and she said, “I thought after Connie and I spent the whole day talking to her about Connie’s whoreishness, she would back off of my dad and let me come in to make unsubstantiated medical judgments about him and give him a miracle cure simply from being in my presence; but no!! I went there today and she was still there. It’s time to call in the big guns. Mike, I want you to go visit your grandfather and take your book. If the mere sight of it is not enough to bring Grandpa Jim to his senses, then I want you to read it to him until he is forced to snap out of it to stop you.”

I said to mom, “Does he still have the IV in him and the oxygen mask? I don’t want to see him with the IV and oxygen mask.” Mom said, “No. He doesn’t have those.” I said, “I still don’t want to go. I hate visiting him with Iris around.” My mom said, “Michael James Patterson. You will go there and cure your grandfather. I’ve edited your book, and I know that if there was any book in the world which could bring a man out of a coma to stop you from reading it out loud, it is this book.” That was quite a compliment, so naturally I had to go.

Well, I got to Grandpa Jim’s hospital room and sure enough, Iris was there. He seemed to be lying on his back and sleeping; but Iris insisted he was actually awake with his eyes open. So I said, “Grandpa? It’s me…Michael.” Then I gave him a little pinch on his arm, so he would know it wasn’t a dream (come true). Iris, of course, had to reiterate what I just said. She said, “It’s Michael, Jim! You know who Michael is!”

Then I pulled out the book and showed it to him, just as mom asked. I said, “I brought my book to show you. (Note I didn’t say to give to you; because Deanna wouldn’t have let me have the copy to use otherwise.). It’s just been published.” This time Iris felt the need to reiterate what she felt Grandpa Jim was saying, as if she could read someone’s mind who was asleep. It was very strange. She said, “I know he’s pleased, dear…and very proud!” Then she put her left hand on my arm and her right hand on my…goodness, I don’t want to think about that again.

Just in case Grandpa Jim wasn’t following the conversation, Iris pushed me aside, and grabbed my book. At first I thought she was going to clock Grandpa Jim across the head with it, but then I realized it was not a frying pan, so Grandpa Jim was safe. She put the book close to Grandpa Jim’s chin (as if he could see it out of his chin), pointed to it with her thumb(?) and said, “Your grandson is an author, Jim! Isn’t it wonderful? This is his book! Can you see it? Do you know what I’m saying?—Hello! Is anybody home?

Well right about this time a miracle occurred, a miracle which allowed me to stop Iris’ caterwauling and to make a graceful exit while claiming I had met my obligation to my mother. Grandpa Jim got a funny look on his face similar to the one my son had yesterday. I figured it was a bowel movement, but I am not one to pass up an opportunity to get away from an old, sick person. I said, “He’s home, Iris!... He’s smiling!” Iris looked skeptical, possibly because she hates for someone to give an unsubstantiated medical diagnosis of Grandpa Jim aside from her. Nevertheless, there was an irrefutable grin on Grandpa Jim’s face, and I knew that I could leave and claim the miracle mom wanted.

Mission accomplished, formerly little sis. There’s the miracle cure, and I didn’t have to read my book to get it. I can only hope that Grandpa Jim has a bowel movement every time I come to visit him.

Michael Patterson
Oh, yuck, Mike! So, U're book, it's a laxative, eh? MayB Dee shd stock it next 2 the Ex-Lax and suppositories in her pharmacy.


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  • At 8:04 AM, Blogger DreadedCandiru2 said…

    Oh, good golly. I just hope that Jim wasn't hanging around long enough to hear about your good news. That'd sort of make the triumph a tad bittersweet, right? Consoling yourself that knowing your book brought him comfort in his last seconds would be too low-key a victory for your family.

  • At 9:25 AM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    i'm afraid gramps is prolly gonna b in limbo 4 a long, long time. :(

    do ya think mayB mike took iris 2 the hospital caf 2 tell her sum more family flashbacks? guess we won't know until monday morning.


  • At 1:13 PM, Blogger DreadedCandiru2 said…

    Knowing him, it's a dead (forgive the pun) certainty he'd feel compelled to be charitable and share the glorious story of his brilliant life to the undeserving old woman pretending to love Jim like she was as good as he was. This would have the added benefical effect of sending her to wherever potato-shaped women go when they die before Jim did.


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