Angels of Mercy

One of Jimmy's more endearing qualities is his almost pathological attention to friends in need. You've heard the phrase "fair weather friend"? Well, Jimmy is a "foul weather friend".  He may not have spoken to you for two years, but if there's a death in your family? Jimmy's the first one there, bouquet of flowers in hand.

This quality also extends itself to caring for the sick and elderly. I realized early on, that part of my job as Jimmy's wife was to be accompanying him on visits to see old people. Every time we go to New York, we make our way around Long Island visiting a series of Jimmy's elderly relatives and the elderly parents of his old friends. Even when Jimmy isn't with us, Jude and I are expected to make these little visits to say hello. Jude has actually become incredibly dear about it, he dutifully gives the old ladies hugs and kisses, allows them to kiss him and pinch his cheeks, then does his best to sit quietly while I make small talk.

So when Jimmy announced that our Sunday afternoon family activity was going to be driving over to Westwood to visit a friend of ours in the hospital, I was not surprised.

A week ago, a dear friend of ours, Julie, had a brain aneurysm rupture. Amazingly (and characteristically of Julie), she has survived this, and while she has stroke-like symptoms effecting movement on her right side, she is expected to have a full recovery.

Julie and her husband, Barry, our long-time friends, are a fascinating and original couple. They have both had long careers in stage and film, he as an actor and director, and she as a dancer and choreographer. Their parties are often peopled by a Who's Who of Showbiz. They have a house here in Los Angeles as well as an apartment in New York, which is exactly what you'd imagine a "Broadway showpeople" apartment to look like - walls covered with posters and Playbills of plays they've been involved in. Broadway composers drop by to play the piano while famous actors sing along.

Now, while this hospital visit was something like Jimmy's usual missions of mercy, and technically, Julie is old enough to be my mother, I would NEVER call her old. This is a woman who choreographed the original production of Hair on Broadway! She's slim and fit and full of "piss and vinegar". Very New York. A real theater diva. She'd make a wonderful character in a Woody Allen film.

So when we walked into her hospital room, it was a little shocking to see her looking so small and frail, a tiny little woman with a head full of curly brown hair. She seemed happy to see us, and accepted an enthusiastic hug from Jude. But while she's usually boisterous and talkative, she now has a problem with her speech, as if her words are catching somewhere in her brain, and it's hard for her to actually get them out of her mouth and she was speaking very softly and carefully.

We had been sitting with her for about a minute, when she suddenly told us that we were going to go outside. This is very Julielike, she usually just sort of tells you what to do. She got into her wheelchair and instructed Jimmy that he was to wheel her out into the hallway. Mmm...okay.

So we wheeled her out of her room. She told us softly that we were going to go outside, and pointed the way down the hall. We asked her if she thought that would be okay with her nurses, and she kind of dismissed us and emphatically pointed the way.

She clearly had a plan in mind. She directed us out of her ward, down a hallway, down an elevator and out of the hospital into a courtyard. I assumed that she simply wanted to get a little fresh air.

But no. She kept pointing. "We'll just go down there." she said softly. The next thing we knew we were headed down the street to a nearby shopping area. I tried to make small talk about how she was feeling, and the details of her daily therapy, but between her softspokenness and the sound of the traffic, I couldn't really hear her.

On and on we went, occassionally, Jimmy would shoot me a questioning look. When we asked Julie where we were going, she just sort of smiled mischievously, and said "just a little farther". On we went. I was wearing these chunky sandals that were NOT meant for hikes. Jude started to whine "I'm soooooooo hot, Mama. How much farther are we goooooiiiinnngg??" Julie continued to point. To the left, another block. To the right. I swear, we pushed her 10 blocks. And remember that this is a woman in a hospital gown! With a hospital bracelet, and that IV hookup thingy in her arm!

Eventually, Julie revealed that we were going to a "coffee place". Ah, there was one on the corner! But no, she said "that's not the one." On we trudged. I started to limp to avoid my sandal rubbing the blisters that are forming on my feet. Jude started grumbling that he's thirsty.

Now you've got to understand that Jimmy is NOT a patient man. He doesn't like anybody telling him what to do, and he has no tolerance for anything like a wild goose chase. If anyone else had done this to him under ANY other circumstances, he would have flipped out. But no, this was one of his missions of mercy, so he was on his best behavior, dutifully pushing the little wheelchair.

Finally, after going I swear to God at least 3/4 of a mile, Julie pointed to a little sign at the end of the block. A tiny, charming little coffee shop, very New York. Very Julie. We rolled her in, and she told us to buy her a latte. Which we did. It was, in fact, a REALLY good latte. When we were sitting there sipping our coffees, Jimmy asked her if she was really supposed to be drinking coffee. She sort of smiled and giggled.

When we finally got her back to the hospital after our walking tour of Westwood, I checked the time. The outing had taken TWO HOURS. And amazingly, no one at the hospital seemed to have noticed that she was gone. Which is worrisome. We kissed her goodbye and hightailed it out of there as fast as we could before we got in trouble with some nurse. Isn't there some rule against that? Stealing a patient from a hospital and taking them on a joyride in their wheelchair?

And what does Jimmy say as we're leaving the hospital room? "We'll come back and visit you next week!"

God bless him, but that man better rub my swollen and blistered feet, or I'm going to be the one he's wheeling around in the chair!

Comments

[Elizabeth]

You are wonderful to do such a thing, although it does make one wonder how well she is being looked after!

[mommylisa]

When my cousin was in the hospital - which was a LOT because she had a bad heart. Difibrillator & Pacemaker. We used to sneak off to Davani's down the street or the cafeteria for pie. We were in our late teens and early twenties and thought we would live forever - no matter the doctors.

My dear cousin left us twenty years ago this past February. I treasure those adventures...

[Becky]

You guys are sweethearts, I bet that outing made her day!

And hmmm, it is a little odd that nobody minded her being gone?

[Sprite's Keeper]

You truly have a wonderful husband. And he truly has a wonderful and patient wife!

[Maureen@IslandRoar]

OMG, the nurse in me doesn't know whether to laugh or gasp! She is quite the character, huh? My HS boyfriends grandfather once just left the hospital and took a bus home. It took them a while to notice he was gone too. I think the nurses just assume someone took the patient for a test, but yeah, a little scary....
Your husband sounds wonderful! And you're certainly modeling the kind of behavior to make Jude an incredible man.

[Viki]

I could be mistaken but I don't think your supposed to be taking a patient that far from the hospital lol. There is something so wrong though that no one even noticed she was missing,ha. She seems like some kind of woman though. I hope she recovers quickly.

[Fiddledeedee]

I just adore Jimmy. And what a wonderful roll model he is to Jude. Who will undoubtedly take very good care of the 2 of you when you are old and incontinent.

I routinely promise my children that when my husband and I are old and gray, we are going to sit in their backseat and bicker. :)

[Julie at MDMA]

You guys are awesome! For her, I bet that was the best latte in the world!

BTW, you are both doing some seriously fantastic modeling for Jude about how to be with people in need. My son wouldn't be jumping into hug anyone in the hospital ... which says way more about me than it does about him. Maybe I should work on that before I AM the person in the hospital (sorry, just had a birthday and I've been a bit maudlin).

[Sara]

What a wonderful story! I love that Jude is so comfortable with older folks.

I think it's sooo important for our kids to have a connection to far removed generations.And to be able to weather a big overly-lipsticked kiss from someone you don't know that well.