A Bad Case Of The Churls

(My mom is admitted to the hospital for what turns out to be pneumonia with two collapsed lungs, among other complications. She’s required to wear an oxygen mask, but because she’s delirious, she keeps trying to take it off. Meanwhile, I’m constantly forcing her to keep it on. She’s quite irritable, and I’m very tired from babysitting her. One of our interactions went something like this:)

Mom: “Where are my clothes?”

Me: “You’re in the hospital, Mom. You don’t need your clothes.”

Mom: “Don’t you have any sense of decency?!”

Me: “None of the patients have decency in the hospital. Everyone wears gowns.”

Mom: *removing her mask* “I’m pissed off at you right now.”

Me: *snatching it back up and holding it to her face* “You have to keep that on.”

Mom: “[My Name], if you say that one more time…”

Me: “I have to; you keep taking it off!”

Mom: *glaring at me hard* “You’re churlish!”

(I’m very amused by her “churlish” comment and relay it to my family later. Afterwards, my mom is sedated for a few weeks, and my family takes shifts at the hospital to watch her. When she regains consciousness, she says she loves me; it’s a very touching moment. I return home and tell my family how she’s doing.)

Me: “And she said she loves me.”

Brother: “No, she doesn’t, you churl.”

(When my mom’s better, we tell her about the “churlish” comment as well.)

Mom: “I don’t even know what that word means!”