THE FIRST THING MARIA SAW UPON ENTERING THE PARLOR IN 1908 WAS AN ODDLY FAMILIAR SCENE

Here she was in a  house that looked and smelled vaguely familiar.  There was the fragrance of lavendar around her and across the room was a table with a book resting against a vase.  It had her name on it!  

She had no idea where she was but she somehow felt she should know.  She picked up the book and took it over to a chair where she sat down to read it.

MARIA IS HER NAME - TOUCHING STONES IS HER GAME

Maria is a 2020's girl - she is adventuresome who loves socializing...but since this year is not working out well for her  (or anybody) she has decided that time travel is definitely worth the risks that come with this ground breaking opportunity.     

She has become a volunteer subject  for testing  the latest technological advancements  in time travel or, as some people like to call it,  "touching stones."  Time travel, (although a very crude and dangerous endeavor and not known to the general population) has been around since the 1890's,  but  has been advanced to a point where within the next five years if you have the exorbitant amount of  money required, you can purchase a ticket to any time in the past four centuries or to the future within the next three centuries.   

Her uncle  who works on this highly guarded  secret project which is  perfecting the engineering advancements  required to propel a person to the future or the past ,  has offered her the opportunity to choose , at her own risk,  where she would  like to visit.  She has decided to go back to the early 1900's and snoop around a bit. 

She has arrived.

44

(Okay my silly story was put in draft until I finished it and because it has been foggy and raining and windy and ...   well,  staying inside weather,  I was playing around with this idea.  Weird thing though when I came back to the draft right under this photo and before this paragraph was the number  "44".  I have no idea what  this means and I didn't add it - this wasn't my doing.  

Anger

I was accompanied , on my last three nights by a fresh faced young nurse called Niamh

In her early twenties she is feeling her way as a professional , but shows great promise I think.

I told her so, during our long hours together 

And by doing so found that she bounced ideas and problems against me, as she valadated her own clinical decisions

I listened with interest to her interaction with a patient who was somewhat disgruntled 

He wasn't having the best of days at the hospice and was spiky and curt even though at every turn Niamh examined the problems patiently and professionally 

We explored how the patient made her feel afterwards in the quiet of the staff room and I suggested that it was just ok to accept that he was angry without trying to solve every problem .

Patient Anger Is not something nurses cope well with.

I was then reminded of a moment long ago now when I used to care for my brother every Thursday daytime. He was confined mostly to bed then, with a bubbling tracheostomy and the cruelty that is motor Neurone disease.
My presence was more a confidence boost for my sister in law , so she felt content to leave the house for a days' shopping and apart from the occasional mess round and tracheal suction  my day would be peaceful as the dogs would run amok in the garden as my brother slept or watched crap tv.
I remember one afternoon he had a coughing fit and needed his tracheostomy inner tube changed and his airways cleared .
To me this procedure is second nature but that day my brother had become irritated and difficult.
He was angry, and had no voice and as I fiddled with the tubes and catheters his eyes flashed red with anger
Moments later he slapped my hand hard as I reached forward with a suction catheter and shocked and suddenly upset I paused for just one second and said a slightly exasperated " I'm sorry" 
I remember my brother closing his eyes and flopping back on his pillow as I finished the procedure and without saying anything more I cleaned up the equipment  and busied myself with task orientation.
I was ten years younger than my brother and we couldn't be more different in personality if we tried.
I knew I would often irritate him but I never quite knew just why that was.
Initially the gay thing was an issue , but I knew it wasn't really that that irritated him.
It was more me, and I get that, me coupled with hidden sibling riverly so often experienced between brothers.
I felt that slap long long after it had happened though
And I remembered my training too on spinal injuries as I watched bulldog Mabel bounce around the edge of the pond. The pond she would fall into a week later
Training which said Internal anger was so much harder to deal with than external anger.

This memory is almost nine years old. I had to look it up on Going Gently finding the post where Mabel finally swan dived into the pond like Shelley Winters in The Poseidon Adventure
See
https://disasterfilm.blogspot.com/2011/11/sock-down-trouser-leg.html

But I suddenly remembered it as though it was yesterday.
I also remember how the afternoon ended as an hour or two later when I went to check on my brother he gestured to a crappy quiz programme on the tv.
It was our habit to watch it together with me inanely shouting out the answers
And he gestured for me to sit to do the same
There was no need to revisit the burst of anger
It was there and it was out,
And it was finished with.