Daughter Nancy had a tonsillectomy Tuesday morning.  I stayed with her in the pre-op area until the nurses wheeled her into the operating room and then I roamed the halls of the hospital looking for a cup of coffee.

Thank goodness it’s a very small hospital.

The nice lady at the front desk gave me directions and, while walking down a long, empty corridor, I saw this displayed behind a glass wall.

I had no idea what it was either, except that it was old.

And then…Is it really Florence Nightingale’s cap?  Or one of them?  If I am ever in the Westerly Hospital again (hopefully not, knock on wood) I will ask someone to explain to me why it’s there.

I should even google it and report back to you.  I’ll let you know what I find.

Nancy is doing as well as can be expected, as they say.  I think the pain is less than the nightmare various people described.  She is very sore and tired and uncomfortable, but she likes her quiet little guest room downstairs.  She ate applesauce while watching tv with us last night.

I admittedly have no Florence Nightingale genes.  Caring for the sick is not my gift to the world, obviously.  But I am great at “nursing with food” and can and will create anything my sick family and friends need for their recovery.

Yes, we have Jello.  Lots of it.  And tomorrow there will be French toast, made with brioche bread (with the crusts cut off so as not to aggravate a tender throat).

Italian ices, ice cream cups and puddings are also available here at my little rehab home.  Ginger Ale?  We have plenty.

Florence Nightingale would be impressed.