Live to fight another day

Today was the big day. Sybil was examined by a neurologist. Good news, everyone. She is going to live. Not that there was much doubt, considering Parkinson’s disease doesn’t kill. At the very least we know it is very early and should be treatable.

In typical style the appointment was memorable in a way only Sybil could make it. Surprisingly she allowed me to come into the exam room with her. Luckily there was no disrobing. We just sat there while a doctor fired questions at my mother. On a table within the exam room, there was a fairly large bag of safety pins. Could they have been for closing gowns? Did it even matter? Between each question regarding her health, my mother would comment on the size and shape of the pins. Occasionally she would say, "You better not stick me with those pins." Now to most people this would never cross their mind but my mother is a different bird all together. She always likes to remind me of the time my cousin was being fresh, as she calls it, to her mother. Sybil figured the best way to end my teenage cousin's outburst was to stick her in the fleshy part of her behind with an open safety pin. Once stuck, and before tetanus set in, my cousin was no longer sassy to my aunt. I think Sybil got that from chapter seven of a Dr. Spock book.

Thankfully with a very low dose of dopamine, Sybil should be fine. As long as she is healthy enough to stick the neighborhood child with pins when they aren't nice I will be happy.

On another note, why doesn't anyone respect my stuff? I leave the house to go to the doc and I come back to some jerk sleeping in my bed.



**Disclaimer - I have not verified with my cousin if she was ever stuck with a safety pin for being fresh.