The fridge: a dramatic presentation

For most of the day, I am in my bedroom lying on my bed. I have the cuff on my tracheotomy tube inflated. This means, I receive full support for breathing from my ventilator, but it also means I cannot speak. My mom frequently enters my room and tells me things which are on her mind. In years gone by, I would acknowledge the remarks with a verbal response. Since inflating and deflating my cuff puts extra stress on my tracheotomy tube, my mom tells me I don't need to verbally respond. I often nod my head, wave or smile to acknowledge my mom's comments.

The other day, my mom burst into my room. She was looking for the beets she bought at the market. She wanted to cook them in the oven for supper. Instead of my mom's usual commentary, today she does a dramatic presentation while asking me where her beets are. She pretends to open up a drawer with her right hand and says, "Are they in the right fridge drawer?" She then reaches high and says with a high pitched voice, "Are they on the top shelf?" She reaches low with both hands and asks in a deep tone of voice, "Are they on the bottom shelf?" The skit is too much for me. I am rolling on my bed laughing.

When I gain some composure I deflate my cuff. "What are you doing?" I ask. "I can hear and see just fine. I do not need all the extra motions." My mom responds, "Oh sorry. I had too much Diet Coke today." This only provokes my mom to continue with her grand gestures and frequent voice intonations. When I can bare it no longer, I finally say as I make large hand gestures myself, "Your beets are on the bottom shelf of the fridge in a plastic bag."

My mom does an exaggerated bow to show her appreciation for the information. She leaves my room and goes off to make supper. I spend the rest of the evening laughing as I keep replaying my mom's play acting abilities in my head.