“I’m too old for this,” she moaned as we repositioned her body higher up in the hospital bed.
“You are not,” I said, looking her square in the eye.
Her eyes narrowed and a gnarled hand reached up to point a finger at my chest, “Boy, I’m 86 years old, I’ve got 15 great-grandkids, and I’m stuck in here fighting cancer. I’m too old!”
I gave a short laugh and said, “that’s nothing! I had a patient who woke up from surgery and asked where the hell she was, and what the hell we were doing in her room.”
“She was 96, and her family didn’t even bother telling her she was going in for surgery.”
My patient looked at me, mouth open in shock.
“You’re right,” she said, that’s too old.”