They Disappear

At 97 years of age, Thelma Rea looks it. She has short white tufts of hair that are just long enough to mostly cover the areas that are now bald, a severe hunch – appropriate to anyone 80 years or older, an equally appropriate stubbornness, and the wit of a youngster in her sixties. She has an oxygen tank that can be wheeled around with her as necessary. Usually though, shuffling across her condo to the bathroom or kitchen doesn’t require wheeling it with her. A very long tube enables her to leave the oxygen tank and walk to the next room. Amazingly, she has managed not to fall even though her feet routinely get a bit tangled in the extra-long tubing.

Thelma is at home in her condo once again and about ready to recount her abduction by ambulance and near re-kidnapping story to the Visiting Angels from the church. Shirley, a visiting angel who witnessed some of the recent story, and has discussed it with Thelma several times since, is ready to assist.

“Can I tell it?” asks Shirley, feeling a need to get all of the details correct and bring the others up to speed. Shirley, the youngest of the group gathered, has the energy for the retelling as well. Her naturally red hair seems at least to still be so and suggests a spirited re-telling. She is the only one of the group with hair past her shoulders and a style that is close to modern.

“Go ahead, though I’ll have to make sure you don’t embellish,” says Thelma… with a slight roll of her eyes for the others indicating the embellishment is common.

Shirley, a mere 65 years of age and co-chair of the visiting angels, is ready to tell the story…

“You all remember that the doctor told Thelma that she needed to have someone with her every hour… You know, on account of Mable coming by and not being able to get a response from her. Well, Thelma’s being unconscious is what led to Mable calling the ambulance and the doctor at the hospital giving the orders.”

The group: Mary – age 70, Bernice - 72, and even Thelma, nod along. But Thelma, feeling it necessary to provide more detail about Mable’s betrayal at this point, chimes in, “I don’t think I was actually unconscious, just sleeping really really well, and if she hadn’t called 911 and worked harder at waking me instead, I’m sure none of this craziness would have had to happen.”

With a look of acknowledgement, so as to keep Thelma’s extemporizing short, Shirley continues the story, “Well, the paramedics and the doctor seemed to agree that you needed reviving. Anyway, the doctor at the hospital insisted that a condition of Thelma’s release was that someone be there with her twenty-four hours a day. He also said Thelma should sell the condo and move into an assisted living facility, but you know how Thelma feels about that…”

Shirley stops to make sure the visiting angels know, looking at each for their approval… Stern faces and emphatic nods follow. They’ve heard Thelma pine on this topic more than once before. “Well, since Mable came along, she indicated that she was able to be there; never mind that she has a husband at home in a separate apartment. For whatever reason, Mable saying she was up to it was enough to release her. The doctor explained that, with this condition, no one would take her away from her home again against her consent but that, if she wasn’t getting proper supervision, they would be back.”

Thelma interrupts again, “and I was grateful that Mable’s saying she would stay with me got me out of the place, though if she hadn’t called 911 I wouldn’t have been there to begin with” she offers, her face showing the exasperation of that predicament again. “And then she proceeded to actually stay with me every hour of every day for the next week. I think her husband was home celebrating.”

“So,” Shirley continues, rolling her eyes, “as is being demonstrated now, Thelma wasn’t and isn’t a big fan of being Mable’s constant companion. After that first week of Mable every hour of every day, Thelma was not so patient.”

Thelma, content at this point to let Shirley continue telling the story, merely nods.

“So, when Mable started telling Thelma when she should nap and told her she would call her doctor if she didn’t listen to her, Thelma lost it, yelled at her, and told her she was never welcome in her house again.”

The group gives the appropriate facial expressions to feign surprise, but no one is truly startled at the result.

“Yes, that’s about right,” agrees Thelma.

“Unfortunately,” continues Shirley, “a few days later the hospital sent an emissary to make a house call and check on Thelma… Apparently that’s part of the deal and explains why they went on Mable’s say-so at the hospital.” Looks of understanding from the group cross the faces of the visiting angels at the same time… “Ahh,” says Bernice, giving voice to the realization that their collective question about the arrangement was now being answered.

“Yes, Ahh…” repeats Shirley, “only of course when Thelma came to the door there was no one else with her in her apartment.”

“Anyway, as Thelma describes him, and I agree, he was a rather unimpressive looking fellow, lean, average height, but not in any sort of uniform really. He had an identification badge attached to a lanyard around his neck that showed the Hospital name and logo, and some sort of social services tag line under it. He announced to Thelma that he was there to do a follow up check and proceeded to step inside.”

“That’s when I scooted over in front of him so he wouldn’t come any further,” pipes up Thelma. “And he didn’t, you know, but my... he sure had a lot to say…” Thelma lets the sentence linger, giving Shirley her chance to jump back in and continue telling the story.

“So, he did have a lot to say that Thelma was not having any part of. He immediately asked where her caregiver was, and Thelma fired back that she didn’t have or need a caregiver.”

“Well, you must have someone here at all times,” said the emissary, “That was a condition of your release. I’m going to have to arrange for you to be brought back to the hospital.”

At that point, Thelma told him, “You’ll do no such thing.”

“Well, I must” the emissary said, “It’s your doctor’s orders.”

“That’s not my doctor who made those orders,” said Thelma “That was just on account of my neighbor Mable abducting me to the hospital while I was asleep.”

“Or something like that, right Thelma?” Shirley stops to get the support of the protagonist.

“Yes, I think you’ve definitely got the tone of it,” she winks at Shirley indicating her flare in telling the story is acceptable. “Only, as you continue the telling of the story I think we should refer to the man from the hospital as the not so impressive emissary.”

“Fair enough,” chortles Shirley… “So, hearing Thelma mention Mable reminds the not so impressive emissary that this is who he is looking for.”

“Yes, this paperwork says that Mable Brownstone will be here with you at all times,” said the not so impressive emissary.

“Well, that’s ridiculous,” stated Thelma. “She has her own husband to attend to in her apartment, and she is absolutely annoying.”

“The not so impressive emissary then proceeded to contact a local ambulance service,” says Shirley, “and, not to be outmaneuvered, Thelma called the police at the same time. She told them that a gentleman was trying to take her from her home against her will.”

Shirley continues, “The ambulance team arrived first and, fortunately, took the time to listen to Thelma as she let them know she had contacted the police and that they better not attempt to move her against her will. And as they waited for the police, that’s when Thelma called me, so my firsthand knowledge of the story is approaching,” says Shirley, glancing reassuringly at the ladies who share a look of doubt about the craziness now being described.

“Before I arrived, the ambulance team, deciding discretion is the better part of valor, ask the unimpressive emissary for the paperwork he has that says Thelma can’t be on her own in her condo. The paperwork, of course, does indicate that a condition of her being released from the hospital is that she has someone with her at all times which, evidently, was enough for them to begin telling Thelma that they agree with the not so impressive emissary. Shortly thereafter I arrived, and the policeman a minute after. Thelma’s little condo was a very crowded place.”

“The policeman, ceasing control of the crazy situation as policemen are apt to do, addressed Thelma asking her about the call she made about someone removing her from her apartment against her will. Thelma indicated that the not so impressive emissary was the one, though I think she said ‘that crazy little man over there,’ pointing to him, right Thelma?”

“Yes, that seems about right,” admits Thelma, smirking a little at the memory.

Shirley continues, “Of course, at that point the crazy little man, not so impressive emissary, piped up saying he had every right to call for an ambulance to move her to the hospital as he had doctor’s orders. The policeman, examining the document that the not so impressive emissary handed him, concluded it did seem clear, but decided that a call to the hospital to make sure would be worthwhile. So, the policeman called the hospital and relayed the situation, and referenced the paperwork, as best he could. He asked to speak to the doctor that signed the paperwork but the staff there said that he couldn’t be interrupted right now and transferred the policeman to a clerical staff who could speak for the doctor. Well, the clerical staff agreed that if no one was there with Thelma all the time, then she needed to be returned to the hospital. When the policeman told Thelma this though, she was not having it.”

“This is a violation of my rights,” said Thelma. “I have every right to stay in my own home, and you can’t make me go.”

“This led to a little discussion by all,” says Shirley to the group, all of them now leaning forward waiting for how it all got resolved, “but the general conclusion being reached by the policeman and ambulance team seemed to be they would need to comply with the doctor’s note, though no one other than the not so impressive emissary was too passionate about it.”

“At this point, I decided perhaps I could help by suggesting one more call,” says Shirley. “I asked the policeman if we could try the hospital again but insist that it is important that we speak with the doctor. I was a little surprised that he agreed to the plan, but he did. I went ahead and made the call, insisting we needed to speak to the doctor on account of the fact that this tax paying citizen did not want to be removed from her home and believed her rights were being violated. With some reluctance, the clerical staff put me on hold and indicated they would see if they could get the doctor on the line.”

“After about three minutes of holding, and nervous looks from everyone in the room, save Thelma who simply looked more and more resolved by the minute, the doctor picked up. As soon as Thelma could tell I had the doctor on the line though, she grabbed the phone out of my hand, telling the doctor in no uncertain terms that she was not leaving her apartment to go back to the hospital, and he could not make her. The doctor, in no certain terms, told her he did not agree… but he did end up writing a new order on his end that said she did not have to go. When Thelma heard him saying he was doing this, she told him he needed to tell the police officer what he was doing, and he did. The police officer then turned to the not so impressive emissary and let him know what the doctor was doing.”

“The doctor is changing the order and will be emailing you a pdf copy,” said the policeman.

“Well, that’s a relief,” said one of the ambulance team members.

“But the emissary looked a little defeated as opposed to relieved,” says Shirley to the visiting angels. Deciding to finish things up with her appreciation for Thelma, she adds, “Anyway, I’m really glad you stood up for yourself Thelma. I worry for you, but no one should be able to make you move out of your home if you don’t want to.”

"So that’s how it ended?" Questions Mary.

“I suppose it is a little anticlimactic. You were thinking they may have put me behind bars for at least a day I guess?” Thelma says smiling. “But yes, the doctor changed the order and here I am. That was three weeks ago now.”

“Well, I’m proud of you,” says Bernice, “A lot of nerve they had trying to take you away from your home just because you are a little older. They just don’t know how sharp you still are but remember you can call on any of us for help when you need it.”

“Oh, I don’t need anyone to look after me,” says Thelma, inspired by the recent retelling of her story, “but I have to admit, I did ask Mable to come by the other day, on account of the magician that is always here in the afternoon.”

“Magician?” asks Shirley.

“Yes,” explains Thelma, “around 1pm everyday this magician comes through the building and puts on a show. When he waves his wand, bright colored confetti comes out. It’s lovely to look at but it sticks to the walls. You can scrub and scrub it, and the confetti pieces won’t come off. I called Mable over after it happened to ask her how to get them off the walls and she tried to tell me there was nothing there.”

“Wait… What?” stammers Shirley, and the other visiting angels look equally surprised.

“Oh, don’t worry though,” explains Thelma, “turns out they disappear after a couple hours.”