First graders and hospital patients

After school on Thursday, when I usually just want to go home and collapse after two days of wrangling first graders, I drove to the downtown hospital, only five minutes from Columbia, left my car at the top of the parking garage and walked down four flights of stairs to see my friend Ramona. You remember Ramona, the one with the traumatic brain crisis. Ramona who is on the ninth floor, in the neuroscience wing.

One of her twin daughters was there with her today. They had just returned from radiation. I’m guessing that Ramona has/had a brain tumor that exploded. She still cannot form words but she can make more sounds so I think the prognosis is good that she will regain some speech. Maybe all. She is well enough to be moved to a continuing care facility on Friday.

I showed Ramona the pig puppet I used with today’s book, “Little Pink Pup,” a true story about a dachshund that adopted a newborn pig when its siblings pushed it away. She took the book in her one good hand and read through the story. I had pig stickers that I shared with her and her daughter. She seemed pleased. Next week’s story has a penguin in it and I told her I’d bring the book to share with her at her new place. There are penguin stickers, too.