During the time O. J. was in a wheelchair I was often rushed and disorganized. One Good Friday morning he had an appointment with the doctor at 8 am for tests and consultation later. Because it was a school holiday, Misty had five girls spending the night with us. We left them sleeping at home and drove to Tuscaloosa under threatening skies. The radio said there was a tornado watch for Pickens County less than 5 miles from our house.
A sprinkling rain began as we drove into the parking lot and thunder roared in the background. I jumped out of the car, pulled out the wheelchair, opened it, and rushed to O. J.’s passenger’s door. O. J. sat calmly in his freshly ironed shirt and dress slacks with his hat on his head. I had carefully shaved and dressed him and he was neat as he’d always been.
I scooted the chair as close to the opening as possible, bent down to help him out of the seat. His hat was in the way. He took the hat off and placed it on my head sidewise. I moved his legs around and put his feet on the ground. He put his arms around my neck and I reached around and clasped his belt from behind to lift him to a standing position. When he was upright, I hugged him and turned him so he could sit down in the wheelchair.
The rain was harder. I unlocked the wheel and we rolled through the door and to the reception desk where several nurses were standing. I greeted them, filled out the necessary forms, then rolled O. J. to a place he could wait to go to the lab.
I drew a relieved breath and went back to the west facing glass entrance door concerned about the teenagers 15 miles due west. The rolling clouds were so dark the door served as a mirror and I saw my reflection. A man’s hat sat sidewise on my head, my blouse was misbuttoned, my slip showed beneath my skirt, and I was wearing a brown pump and a black wedgie.
One of the nurses behind me said, “Which one did you say has Alzheimer’s?”
