Year 6: The Great Gown Rebellion
Two years ago, we hit our first real snag. My mom took one look at the gown and said, “I’m not wearing that.”
She meant it. The idea of trading her carefully coordinated outfit for something that looked like a wrinkled napkin was, in her words, “ridiculous.” After a little gentle convincing (and a lot of compliments about how she could make anything look good), she finally agreed to change—though she made it clear this was not her favorite look.
The technicians were excellent. They laughed with us and said, “Trust us, we wish we could redesign them too.” Suddenly, the tension lifted, and the whole thing felt less like a battle over fabric and more like a shared joke among friends.
Year 7: Matching Gowns, Matching Smiles
Last year, I came prepared. When the nurse handed her the gown, I smiled and said, “We’ll both wear one.”
The nurse blinked, then smiled, and handed me a second. And just like that, we were twinning—mother and daughter in front-opening gowns, laughing our way down the hall.
My mom loved it. Suddenly, the gown wasn’t a problem—it was a moment.
The only hiccup came when she flinched in pain during the test. It turned out she had a UTI, which made her extra sensitive. Once we knew that, everything made sense.



