A History of the Present Illness (2013)
“At ninety-eight—her bones like a frivolous dinner set from early in the last century, the china still functional but thinned to near translucence, its pieces prone to shattering as might an heirloom dropped on the ground from even the modest height of four feet, ten inches—Edith Picarelli had been shrinking for decades.
“I heard it,” said the nursing home’s art-room assistant. “This sound, like chimes?”
“Too many pieces for counting,” commented the radiologist in New Delhi by teleconference.
“D...amned heels,” said the English administrator when informed. “Her right hip, I’m afraid,” she explained to Frank Picarelli’s answering machine when she called Edith’s son with the news.
It was a cool summer Saturday morning in San Francisco. From his cell phone at the window table of a popular brunch café, the on-call physician told the nurse to send Edith to the hospital. After he hung up, he put a spoonful of scrambled eggs in his toddler daughter’s mouth and said to his wife, “Sweet.MoreLess
“I heard it,” said the nursing home’s art-room assistant. “This sound, like chimes?”
“Too many pieces for counting,” commented the radiologist in New Delhi by teleconference.
“D...amned heels,” said the English administrator when informed. “Her right hip, I’m afraid,” she explained to Frank Picarelli’s answering machine when she called Edith’s son with the news.
It was a cool summer Saturday morning in San Francisco. From his cell phone at the window table of a popular brunch café, the on-call physician told the nurse to send Edith to the hospital. After he hung up, he put a spoonful of scrambled eggs in his toddler daughter’s mouth and said to his wife, “Sweet.MoreLess
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