Boeck.
SUTURE SELF
195
Renie, however, remained silent. Heather moved on
to Judith’s IV. “You’re certain you need more Demerol?” the nurse asked.
“I am,” Judith said. “If anything, I hurt worse right
now than I did an hour ago.”
Heather gave a little sniff, but added another dose.
“That ought to do it for both of you,” she said, sounding stern.
“I’ll bet,” Renie said after the nurse had left, “that
the little twit has never had more than a headache. I
don’t get it. Medical practitioners don’t seem to give a
hoot for the patient’s comfort. Do they really prefer to
listen to us gripe?”
“I suspect a lot of people don’t gripe,” Judith said.
“They suffer in silence, they’re too shy to ask, they’re
intimidated by the staff, especially the doctors.”
“Phooey,” said Renie, digging into her grocery bag.
“Snack?”
“No, thanks.” Judith looked askance at her cousin,
who apparently didn’t feel sufficient guilt to have lost
her appetite.
For a few minutes, Judith lay back against the pillows, hoping the Demerol would start to work. Little by
little, the worst of the pain seemed to ebb. At last she
picked up the family tree and sighed.
“I think I’ll call Mother,” she said.
“You’re procrastinating,” Renie accused, smearing
Brie on a water wafer.
“No, I’m not. I mean, I can’t do much about
Kristin’s family because I don’t know all their names.”
Judith shot Renie a self-righteous look and dialed
Gertrude’s number.
For once, the old lady answered on the third ring.
“Who
196
Mary Daheim
“It’s me, Mother,” Judith said wearily. “How are
you?”
snapped. “Is this some kind of joke?”
“Please,” Judith begged, “don’t tease me. I’m not
feeling real good right now.”
“So who is? You want a list of my ailments? Is that
what you’re peddling? Home remedies? I’ll take a
half-dozen. You want me to pay for it with my credit
card?”
“You don’t have a credit card, Mother,” Judith said.
“You don’t believe in them.”
“I have one now,” Gertrude declared. “I’ve bought a
bunch of stuff the last couple of days, right off the TV.
