THE GRAND ESCAPE
By Meira Nissel
Courtesy of Hamodia Magazine
The walls were green like the mint leaves growing in her little garden. But those wires – why, there were so many she could practically get strangled in them!
Shprintzi turned her head to the left and saw a metal bed with white sheets, flat pillow, and – goodness, who was that grey haired woman in the bed, so prone and listless? Shprintzi tried to get a better look at the woman but felt her legs strapped down. She threw back her flimsy cover and peered at her legs. Large white casts covered both of them.
She tried to wriggle her toes and was aghast when she saw no movement.
“Am I in the hospital?” she asked aloud.
The woman in the next bed stirred. Everything around her remained silent.
“Nurse!” Shprintzi yelled.
A white-clad young woman came clacking into the room.
“Oh, good, you’re up, Mrs. Davidovitch. How are you feeling?”
“Very well, thank you. Why am I here?”
“Well, you fell down three flights of steps, you have two broken legs and a severe concussion.”
“Fiddlesticks. Sweetie pie, I want to leave this dreary place.”
“You will, but you must heal a bit more first.”
“Heal, shmeal. I want to lie in my own bed.”
“Okay, the doctors will be around soon, you’ll discuss it with them.”
The nurse checked something off on Shprintzi’s chart and heeled her way out.
“Nurse! Come back!
The nurse peeked into the room.
“I’m not ‘Mrs. Davidovitch,’” Shprintzi said in a perfect imitation. “I’m Shprintzi.”
The doctors made their rounds in the late morning. By the time they pulled the burgundy curtains around her bed, she was as antsy as a teenager in a boring grammar class.
She was quiet as they prodded first this leg and then that one, and turned and poked their way all along the length of her feet.
“So? Aren’t you going to say anything to me?” she demanded.
The doctor, a short, stocky fellow with a wide mustache, stared at her.
“I’m glad you're finally awake.”
“Sure am. When am I leaving?”
“Aha, so you want to leave already. You just barely got here. You suffered a severe concussion. In fact, it’s only two days.”
“That’s two days too long,” Shprintzi answered. “When am I leaving?”
“Look, at your age every fracture is a problem. You’ll need to wait until you heal a bit more, and then we’ll have to arrange for physical therapy. Do you know what that is?”
Shprintzi roared with laughter. “You're asking me? do you know that I have a black belt in karate, and until this happened I taught children to defend themselves?”
The doctor’s puffy brown eyes bulged. “Y-y-you? At your age?”
“Must I remind you that it’s not very polite to make comments about a woman’s age, especially when she’s old enough to be your grandmother?”
The good doctor stepped back, one step and then another. “Okay, Mrs. Davidovitch. I believe you.”
“Fine; so when can I leave?”
“My answer hasn’t changed. I need to know you’ve recovered fully from your concussion and that you can maneuver with those two casts. Then you’ll be free as a bird.”
“ How long will that be? Three hours? Twelve hours?”
“That’ll depend on how well you respond,” the doctor said at the door, a safe distance away. “But even if you're released several days from now, you’ll still have to go to rehab.”
“Well, I do not plan to stay that long. I’m just informing you.”
“Sorry, but we cannot release you earlier.”
“My foot!”
“NO, both your feet. Good day, Mrs. Davidovitch.”
Oh, bother.
The day passed very slowly for Shprintzi. She watched the woman in the nearby bed toss from side to side. She called for a nurse every hour, simply to chat, and she was practically seeing stars by the time the nurse came to turn off the lights for the night.
“How are you feeling, honey?” the nurse asked kindly.
“Not very well, thank you. This has been a very long day for my, my feet are itching to dance, and here I am suck in this spongy bed.”
The nurse clucked her tongue. “Any relatives that can visit, Grandma?”
“Excuse me? I don’t recall giving birth to your mother. I’m Shprintzi.”
“Oh. Sure. So, no relatives?”
“One son, who has decided to make his own way and is probably somewhere deep in the Amazon jungle, with exotic monkeys as companions. Otherwise, I’m all alone in this world. My students are my only friends.”
“A woman like you should have plenty of friends,” the nurse tried feebly.
“Sure did, shiene meidele. But they’ve all gone to a better place.”
“Oh – that’s too bad.”
“For me it is.”
When Shprintzi closed her eyes for the night, she made up her mind that by hook or by crook, she would be out of the hospital tomorrow.
Tomorrow came, and not only were there no plans to release her, they didn’t even begin discussing physical therapy!
“Well, I’m not staying here,” she decided. “This will be my last night.”
A nurse came to take her blood pressure.
“Tell me,” Shprintzi said. “can I have a wheelchair to wheel myself around?”
“Where exactly do you have in mind to go?”
“Oh, just around. I’m quite edgy in my bed.”
“So I’ve noticed,” the nurse responded. “I can get you a chair. Maybe it’ll make you happier.”
Shprintzi smirked. If the nurse only knew how happy.
The wheelchair was brought after the doctors finished their rounds.
“There you go. Let me help you get into it,’’ the nurse offered.
“I can do this on my own, thank you.”
The nurse raised one eyebrow. “Shprintzi, dear. That’s not possible. You have two broken legs.”
“And two strong arms. Watch me.’’
Using her arms as anchors, she swung her body over the bed and plopped into the chair.
“No, no, no you’ll ruin your legs this way. Where do you think you are, on the dance floor?”
Shprintzi laughed. “Sure do, hon.” And she wheeled herself out of the room.
“Say!” she called back. “This is fun. You should try it!”
“What have I done?” the nurse moaned.
Shprintzi took a tour of her floor, and when she felt comfortable enough, she wended her way back to her room. Before she attempted to get back into bed, she wheeled herself to the small cabinet and opened the first drawer. She found a large hospital bag. In it were her civilian clothes (goodness, who had invented these weird looking hospital clothes? Going out on the street in them would never do!), her running shoes, her sheitel (phew!) and, bless them, her wallet. She removed the bag, wheeled herself to her bed, and hid the bag under her pillow. She somersaulted her way into the bed and pulled the covers over her legs.
“Now we pray that they don’t come to change the sheets today,” she said to no one in particular.”
She timed the escape for seven, when the day nurses were leaving and the night nurses were coming on duty. She slipped under the covers and, with great difficulty, changed into her clothes and exchanged the shmatte on her head for her custom blond sheitel. To the fantastic astonishment of her grey haired neighbor, there emerged from under her blanket a new woman; but alas, her legs were still broken.
Shprintzi strong willed her way into the wheelchair. She waved to the staring woman.
“I’m out of here, sister. If you want to sit on my lap, you can join me.”
The woman slowly shook her head. Then she burst out laughing. “Good luck, dear. Wish I had the nerve to join you.”
“I’ll come visit!” Shprintzi whispered as she wheeled herself out of the room.
Now came the hard part, passing the nurse’s station. Fast, fast, and don’t look at them.
Phew, she had made it to the elevators. She pressed the button, then noticed a nurse making her way to the elevator, too. Now what? She wheeled herself in the other direction and waited until the elevator came and went. She returned to the elevator bank and once again pressed the down button.
“Please, Bashefer, keep those nurses busy and don’t let them come my way,” she prayed.
The metal doors opened. She wheeled herself in and—hmmm, what was she supposed to press, 1? Oh, there it was: Lobby.
She wheeled herself into the corner and watched the elevator make its way down. None of the other passengers even looked her way.
The door clanged open, and there was the lobby. Wheeling herself out, she followed the throng of people to the doors and went right outside with them.
“That was too easy and unexciting,” she mumbled.
She looked back to catch a glimpse of the young guard chatting on his walkie talkie.
Sure hope he’s not looking for me; and if he is, ta-ta. A bit too late.
Shprintzi wheeled herself down the block and stopped at the corner.
“Okay, now that I’m out of the hospital, how do I get home?”
A taxi seemed to be a better option than the bus. She held her finger out to flag one down, and soon a yellow taxicab slowed. The driver rolled down his window.
“Where to, Grandma?”
“Home. I live on Bradley Drive.”
“Great! How do you expect to get in?”
“Can’t very well somersault into the seat, can I?”
“Most certainly not. Not onto my new leather seats, anyway.” And with that, the window shot up, and the taxi was gone.
Fine gentleman, indeed.
Not to be deterred, she tried another taxi and was refused once more. The same happened with yet a third. She finally whipped out her cell phone and called the taxi company.
“I’ll sue you. Why are all your taxi drivers not willing to take me?” she huffed.
“You must be the little old lady who’s trying to get to Bradley Drive.”
“Little? Yes. Old? Certainly not. So answer me.”
“Grandma, you need special accommodations for the wheelchair. Our insurance doesn’t cover that.”
“So how am I supposed to get home?”
“Try an ambulance.”
“Why, thanks for the grand idea. Goodbye!”
Shprintzi felt dejected. How would she get home? Then she remembered that she lived on the third floor, with no elevator. How would she shop, and cook, and shower? Goodness, there were just too many issues she hadn’t thought of.
Maybe I am better off in the hospital.
A light rain began to fall. Shprintzi quickly wheeled her way back to the hospital and pressed the button that automatically opened the door. Tired and weary, she slowly wheeled her way in.
“Visiting hours are over, Grandma. Which floor are you off to?” the young guard asked her.
Her legs ached, her head felt stuffy, and her heart throbbed with loneliness.
“Can I trust you with my secret, sonny?”
The guard came around from behind his desk. “What’s on your mind, Grandma?”
She had no more strength left to fight the word “Grandma”. At least somebody was calling her Grandma.
She told him everything. He smiled.
“You’re a grandma after my own heart. Come, I’ll help you upstairs.”
He radioed for someone to replace him temporarily and wheeled her into the elevator.
“Sonny, you cannot wheel me into the ward because then they’ll chain me to the bed. Just let me off on the correct floor and let me make my own merry way back to bed in room 603.”
He did as he was told.
Shprintzi wheeled her way back into the room.
“Why, what do you know! You’re back!” her neighbor exclaimed.
“Sure am. Give me a minute to change and I’ll tell you all about it.”
She felt her courage returning. She slipped underneath her covers and surfaced a few moments later in her hospital gown.
“Leaving your blond hair on for now?” her neighbor asked.
“Yup. Makes me feel more like a lady.”
Not one second later, a nurse ran in.
“Mrs. Davidovitch, where have you been? We’ve been looking all over for you!”
“Me? Here all along. Why do you ask?”
The nurse stared at Shprintzi.
“You weren’t here five minutes ago!”
“Are you sure you looked in the right room?”
“Mrs. Davidovitch, you are impossible!”
“I love you, too, nurse.”
The nurse rushed out.
“Nurse, nurse!” Shprintzi called.
The nurse poked her head in. “Yes?”
“Call me Shprintzi.”
The following day, Shprintzi worked with a kind PT therapist so she could begin functioning despite the casts. She cooperated fully and came back to bed exhausted and satisfied. She barely noticed the visitor sitting on the orange chair next to her bed.
“Hi, Grandma. I’m just finishing my work day and came to see how you’re feeling.”
“Oh, my malach! You…you saved me yesterday, right?”
“My name is Elimelech,” the friendly guard replied.
“Elimelech. What a beautiful name. My husband, may he rest in peace, was also named Elimelech.”
“Really? So was my grandfather. I’ve never met him, though.”
Elimelech removed his cap, revealing a large black yarmulke.
“Did he pass away before you were born?” Shprintzi asked him.
“Yes, and my father passed away shortly after I was born. My mother said that she always wanted to meet her mother-in-law because my father always spoke about her with such pride. She was supposed to be a feisty woman, with courage like a lioness. But she was always too scared to call her. My mother is a timid woman, you see. But when you came to me with your story, I thought, ‘This is how I imagine my grandmother would be.’ So I came to visit and pretend that you really are my grandmother.”
Shprintzi looked deep into the young man’s eyes. They were yellow-brown, just like Shauli’s. come to think of it, he had the same strong shoulders, too.
“Tell me,” Shprintzi asked him, in a rare show of tenderness, “what was your father’s name?”
“Shaul Davidovitz. Why, did you know him?”
“You bet I did.”
And the strong, fierce lioness burst into tears.
“My very own grandson, Elimelech,” she sniffed.
“For real? You really are my grandma?” he asked in disbelief. “Wow, wait until I tell Ma and my wife and three children. Can I hug you?”
“You better, or I’ll bite,” Shprintzi said, laughing through her tears.