Mom Is Making Progress—and Apparently I’m Her Husband Now

This morning after dialysis, I went to visit Mom at the skilled nursing facility.

When I got to her room, she wasn't there.

That's actually a good thing.

She was doing rehab.

I was told that Mom is making progress, which was great to hear. She still needs someone blocking her left leg because it continues to buckle, but progress is progress.

After everything that's happened, I'll take it.

Eventually, Mom made her way back to the room.

And that's when today's visit took a turn I wasn't prepared for.

There's a New Roommate

Mom got a new roommate on Saturday.

Her previous roommate, Jenny, left last Monday. I don't know the name of the new roommate yet, but I do know that she broke her hip, had surgery, and is now there recovering.

The new roommate came into the room while I was there.

There was some banter.

I'm not particularly good at banter, but I participated.

She mentioned that she's also hard of hearing, so apparently Mom and her new roommate already have something in common.

Everything was going fine.

Normal conversation.

Normal skilled nursing facility visit.

And then she looked at us and asked a question:

“Is that your husband?”

Excuse me?

I'm sorry.

What?

GROSS!!!!

I believe there are moments in life when the human brain protects itself by temporarily refusing to process information.

This was one of those moments.

Of all the possible relationships she could have guessed...

Son?

Nephew?

Relative?

Friend?

Random bald guy who wandered into the wrong room after dialysis?

Nope.

Husband.

I guess...Good for Mom?

Once I recovered from the initial trauma, I had another thought.

I guess that's a compliment to Mom?

Maybe?

Apparently, she looks young enough to be my husband.

Good for her.

Unfortunately, that means the other half of the equation is that I apparently look old enough to be married to my mother.

Not good for me.

I'm choosing to focus on Mom's rehab progress instead.

She's working.

She's improving.

Her left leg still needs support, but she's moving in the right direction.

She has a new roommate.

And apparently, sometime between dialysis and walking into the skilled nursing facility, I aged several decades.

Anyway, I'll be back.

I need a few minutes to clean the vomit out of my mouth.

Then maybe I'll introduce myself properly to the new roommate.

“Hi. I'm Niel. Her SON.”

Let's make sure we've got that established early.

Life Happens… Vegas Will Have to Wait

Earlier this week, what started as a normal Tuesday quickly turned into a family crisis involving my mother. It was one of those moments where priorities become crystal clear in an instant.

There were decisions that had to be made, questions that needed answering, and someone needed to be her advocate. My mother was confused and, because English isn’t her strongest language, communicating with doctors and fully understanding what was happening became even more challenging. I spent the night at the hospital, then headed straight to dialysis the following morning without ever making it home.

As exhausting as it was, there wasn’t another option. Family comes first.

Unfortunately, that also meant making another difficult decision—canceling my trip to Las Vegas.

I was incredibly excited to spend time with my amazing children, hear about school, laugh at their stories, and just enjoy being Dad for a few days. Those moments become more valuable every year, and missing them hurts.

I was also looking forward to attending CCW, hearing about innovation, learning best practices, and connecting with leaders from across the customer experience industry. It’s always energizing to be around people who are passionate about improving the customer journey and sharing new ideas.

But sometimes life tells me that my place is somewhere else.

So, I pivot.

That’s something life has taught me over the past few years. Whether it’s losing a leg, sitting in dialysis three days a week, navigating health challenges, or unexpected family emergencies, I adapt, adjust, and keep moving forward.

Vegas isn’t going anywhere.

CCW will come around again.

Hopefully my children understand that Dad wanted to be there, and hopefully my mother continues to improve.

And for those of you who have been following my ongoing commentary about Nextdoor… don’t worry. I hope someone from Nextdoor still makes it to CCW, picks up Natalie Beckerman’s book When Did You Stop Caring?, and saves us all from the in-person confrontation my followers have apparently been waiting for. I suppose what happens in Vegas should probably stay in Vegas anyway!

For now, my place is exactly where I need to be.

Sometimes the greatest trip I can take is simply showing up for the people who need you most.