SATURDAY, JANUARY 29, 2022 SATURDAY STORY

SATURDAY, JANUARY 29, 2022 SATURDAY STORY

This is a work of fiction

*****

“GRANNY DOWN”.  

The feared cry came from the frontcourt.  “Granny Down” stopped all action immediately.  

The first question was “who is it”, which came quickly.  Julie Bowen, our lead scorer was down and grimacing in pain.  

We have two nurses on our team (or, more correctly, two retired nurses).  Lynn Price was first to get to Julie.  (Lynn had been in the backcourt).  Getting on her knees, Lynn knelt over Julie and asked what happened.  I was on the bench at the time.

Seemingly Julie had tripped over her own feet as she made a move to the basket.   Another lady from the “Shooting Stars” came over and knelt beside Julie as well.  From her mannerisms, I figured she was a nurse as well.  (I was wrong - she was a retired orthopedic doctor).  

Within a few minutes, two of the staff from the Georgetown Recreation Center were there as well.  Did we need an emergency medical technician or an ambulance? But, with three people lifting, Julie got up - with some obvious pain.  The trio helped her to a chair on the sidelines where the orthopedic doctor (I learned later her name was Shirley Moore) was gently prodding Julie's leg.  “Does that hurt?”  “How about there?” The grimace on Julie’s face was feedback to the doctor.  But, she seemed okay.  Maybe a sprained ankle or sore foot, but probably nothing broke.

Shirley said “I think she might need an x-ray.  I think somebody can help her to the emergency room.”  

Julie responded, “I’m okay.  Just let me sit for a few minutes.  Then I might have somebody take me for an x-ray.  I’m generally in the St. David’s system and that is closer”. Julie got to her feet with help from the rec center staff.  She took a few tentative steps - then ambled to the sidelines and took a chair.  It seemed as if she would be okay.  Julie waved off the help - and said to the other ladies “Finish the game.  I’ll be okay”. (What a trooper!!)

*****

The Fire ants were having a good day over the Shooting Stars and going into the last quarter were up by ten points.  I was the substitute for Julie at forward for the last half the period and had six points and Judy Howard was my forward teammate.  The defense was collapsing on me, and I knew where Judy would be.  A quick outlet pass to Judy - and bingo - two more points for the Fire Ants.  

But, it was about the same at the other end - we’d go ahead by twelve and the Shooting Stars would cut it back to ten.  With a minute to go, our coach, Rhonda Lassen called a timeout and we did some substituting and stalled.  Final score, Fire Ants 54, Shooting Stars 46.  (Any victory over the Shooting Stars was good!)

*****

Granny Basketball is a newer version of the old-time girl’s basketball rules.  There are three sections of the floors - frontcourt, middle court, backcourt - with two players from a team in each section.  Players cannot leave their section.  Forwards are the only players who can score points.  Three fouls and a player fouls out.  If a player in the backcourt is fouled, one of the forwards will get to shoot the free throws.  There is no running or jumping.  And, for official games, we wear bloomers and tops with our numbers on a back ‘bib’.  No flesh can show except hands and feet.  We get our hands inspected to make sure our nails are trimmed as we don’t want to inadvertently scratch another player.  

Because we are all over 50 (and on my team, the Georgetown Fire Ants we average about 70 years of age), safety to the players is supreme.  “Granny Down” - is maybe the highest command.  Basically - stop play and take care of the player who is down.  

Granny Basketball is great exercise and encourages good sportsmanship. And, it seems to be maybe one of the only team sports senior women can play.  

*****

I stopped by Julie at the end of the game and pulled up a chair.  Julie and I were friends and had coffee every other week.  Both of us had been educators.  Julie had been a principal and then an assistant superintendent; and I had been a professor and at one time a dean. 

Others stopped by and said “Good Game”, and “Hope you are better soon” to Julie.  Shirley Moore stopped by and knelt before her and checked out Julie’s leg.  She looked at me and then at Julie and said “Something just doesn’t seem right.”  Turning to me,she said, “Could you take her to get it checked?”.  I said, “Yes”.  

When the throng had thinned, Julie whispered to me.  “I feel awful.  Could you take me to the St. David’s Emergency Room?”

I asked Coach Rhoda to help me get Julie out to the curb and I ran to get my car.  Rhonda helped her in and we made the trip to St. David’s Emergency Room - avoiding Austin avenue as the after-school traffic was picking up.  St. Davids was well located on Scenic Drive overlooking the South San Gabriel River canyon.

At St. Davids, I pulled in the Emergency driveway double-parked by the entrance and turned on my blinkers.   I went in and asked the first person I met with a St. David’s shirt to help me.  

We got Julie out of the car and into a wheelchair.  The St. David person got her in the door and I ran out to move the car out of the Emergency Entrance.

*****

By the time I got the car parked and back inside, there was a large commotion. Julie had passed out in the wheelchair, and they were rushing her into a room.  

The emergency room receptionist called me over to her window.  I was asked if I was a relative, and I said ‘no’.  They then asked ‘is there a relative closeby?  Julie’s husband had died three years ago, and while she might have mentioned a sister or cousin, I wasn’t remembering well.  Was there a child?  A sister? Did they need a relative to be with her?  I was a good friend and we had done some things together as friends.  Was I good enough to help?

Three medical staff ran down the hall towards the room they had moved her.  What was going on?  The desk receptionist had turned her back on the emergency waiting room and was frantically on the phone.  Again, I wondered what was going on?

*****

Twenty minutes, thirty minutes, an hour, an hour-and-one-half - I sat in the emergency waiting room.  After 45 minutes I went to the window to ask the receptionist what was going on.  

The answer took me by surprise.  “You’re not related to the lady are you?” My answer was no.  “Then I can’t tell you by HIPAA standards.”  

I understand privacy standards.  As a professor I was bound by FERPA and couldn’t disclose private information without written authorization.  I also know that they can get around some things.  The only person who might know more about Julie was Rhonda Lassen.  I called Rhonda and explained the situation.  

I said to Rhonda. “I brought Julie into the emergency room, she passed ouit, and they haven’t told me anything.  They say they can only talk to the family.  Does Julie have family in the area?”

Rhonda listened and answered quietly.  “Julie and her husband had one son - Jeffrey Bowen.  I don’t know exactly why Julie and Jeff are estranged, but they are.  He lives here in Georgetown.  He would be her closest relative if the hospital needs more information.  I’ll come out in about two hours - I have some tax reports that I have to finish tonight.”  (Rhonda was a CPA and almost every free minute not doing granny basketball was spent helping people do their taxes.

Rhonda looked up Jeff Bowen’s information on her phone and gave the information to me.  

I went to the emergency room desk receptionist with the information.  

I said, “My friend, Julie Bowen, that I brought in a couple of hours ago does have a son in Georgetown.  But, Julie and her son are estranged and haven’t talked to each other in some time.” I was thinking of my ace in the hole - if I really needed information, I’d have Rhonda call in saying she was Julie’s sister.  So, I added, “I think she has a sister in the area if Jeff doesn’t want to see his mother.”

I gave the name and phone number to the emergency room desk receptionist and sat down.  I could barely overhear her calling Jeff Bowen to talk about his mother.  

*****

Another thirty minutes.  I’m glad I kept my charger in my purse - as I started to play games in the waiting room.  Julie and I had four games of Words With Friends going.  I had picked a seat near the door so I could see Jeff Bowen when he came in.  Julie was 71, so I figured Jeff would be in his 40s.  I was trying to guess what he might look like.  Julie was a taller lady - so if Jeff had her genetics, he should be tall.  I’m not sure why, but I was guessing a beard - may be even a reddish beard.  

The door opened and a taller male entered - alone.  (And, had a reddish beard - my brain said this was Jeff).  He had on jeans and a blue work shirt that said “Jeff”.

The man went to the reception window and I heard him say “I’m Jeff Bowen.  Somebody called me and told me my mother was here and might die”. (I gasped at that statement).

The receptionist smiled and said, “Can I see some form of identification, Mr. Bowen?” 

Jeff pulled out his wallet and dug out his driver’s license.  The receptionist said, “Thank you.  Please take a seat and someone will be out in a few minutes to get you”.

I don’t know if it was good or bad luck, but Jeff sat down two seats from me (and the seat in between was empty).  And, I don’t know if I should have kept my mouth shut or not, but I decided I should talk to this man.

“Hello”, I started, “I’m Karen White and I play granny basketball with your mother”.

He looked like he was a little upset - getting called to the emergency room from his job, to see his mother that he had seen for quite a while, and there was some lady that supposedly was a friend of his mother trying to make conversation.  I thought he might want to get up and sit someplace else.

“I’m Jeff Bowen”, he said.  (I waited to hear something like ‘good to meet you‘, or ‘thanks’, or anything - but no, Jeff Bowen in the St. David’s Hospital waiting room was not a talkative person).

So, I continued.  “I brought your mother in.  We had a game today and she fell.  But as we got here she passed out.  I don’t really know what is going on.”  (I was thinking I could add ‘do you know more why she is dying?’ - but I didn’t ask).

Surprisingly, Jeff Bowen nodded and said “Thank you for bringing her in.”  

I replied, “You’re welcome”.  And, promptly he opened his phone and called somebody.

I listened in as he spoke on his phone.

“Hi, Mike, It looks like I’ll be here at the hospital with my mother.  It seems as if she is dying.  So, I don’t know when I’ll be back at the shop”.  There was some dialogue between Jeff and the other person (who must have been Mike). And then he hung up.

Turning to me, he said, “I needed to let them know at work that I’d be gone.  I’m a city electrician”.

“Good to meet you, Jeff”, I replied.  “I’m a retired teacher and I’ve known your mom for about three years at Granny Basketball.”.  In a softer tone, I added, “She is one of our best players”.

Jeff smiled.  But, about then, a door on the other side of the waiting room opened and a nurse stood there and said “Is Jeff Bowen here?”.

Jeff got up and then went with the nurse.

***** 

<Here we are quite a ways into a story and it is getting long - so, I’ll finish this next week.  And, I’m piggybacking on another friend with a similar story - my friend MM from Connecticut>

LOVE WINS.  But, can love win over a long separation between mother and son?  Is Julie really dying?  What is going on?  Can I be a friend to her and her son?  Stay tuned for next Saturday’s story!!

Karen

Saturday, January 29, 2022