Recuperation

Suburban Chicago, 1973. My paternal Grandmother, Tatjana, usually wore housecoats. I wear one because I just returned home from an appendectomy.

"Sugar packets for use in coffee will still be available."

Mom will be happy to hear that.

It's true for adults, too.

"Sometimes the best medicine isn’t a drug, it’s a dog — four paws and a furry tail — that can make a kid feel better."

Poppy says, "Relax."

Rounds, Again.

Suburban Chicago, 1967. Mom heads out to three hospitals for Sunday rounds. It must be spring because she's carrying white gloves. The lilac still life has moved to the upstairs hallway.

Related by Marriage: Bedside

Near Panevėžys, Lithuanian Soviet Socialist Republic, about 1959. I wrote earlier (here and here) about the habit of recording illness. This is Mr. Irene's paternal Grandmother, Veronica.

Sunday Rounds

Here's Mom, heading off to make rounds at the three local hospitals at which she admitted patients:

Suburban Chicago, February 1965. Mom stands next to "The Swan" on a snowy Sunday.