The Old Man and His Tree

The Hospital

I wasn't sure how it happened. I remember falling asleep in my chair, watching the evening news. Something about bad weather ahead for the next week. Next thing I know, I wake up alone in a hospital bed hooked up to multiple monitors with an IV in my arm. I sat up and looked around the grey room, trying to find the magic little button to call in a nurse. I needed to know what the hell happened to me and why I was here. It didn't take long after I started looking for my door to open and a nurse to step in.
"Mister Jones, you're awake!" A blonde nurse in pink scrubs said, rushing over to me. She started taking my vitals quickly, checking my IV drip, and checking me over in shock.
"What's going on, why am I here?" I asked.
"You don't remember, of course. The doctor said you hit your head. You fell out of your chair while you were sleeping and slammed your head into your table. Your mail man found you unconscious on the ground when you didn't answer your door." She explained.
"How long have I been out?"
"Five days, we were worried you had passed on on us. I'll let Doctor Morrison know you've come to so we can start running some tests and make sure you're okay." She smiled. She then jotted something down and left me alone in the room.
I'd fallen and smashed my damn head on my side table? You had to be kidding me...
It wasn't two seconds before another knock and a tall, black haired young man came quickly in and started double checking my vitals.
"Hey, Mister Jones, I'm Doctor Morrison. I'm just checking on you myself then we're getting you in for an MRI just to make sure your brains functioning properly."
"Listen, I'm fine. Right as rain. Just a knock on the head. Can I go home?" I asked.
"About that, I'm afraid at your age with the head injury you just sustained, I can not release you without a family member present, or I can send you to a nursing home until you're completely in the clear. But I got to tell you, the only home out here is pretty over crowded. You might not like it."
"What? Why do I need supervision? I'm 70 years old, I don't need a babysitter. Let me go home."
"Mister Jones, you can't. Not without a family member."
"Look, I have no family left. Now let me go home." I repeated, holding out my arm with the IV, indicating for him to take it out.
"Listen, I can go through some records, see if I can find you a family member that can help you out for a few weeks until you're better. For now, just relax and watch some TV." He turned the boob tube on with a remote attached to the bed and he walked out.
I sat there, dumbfounded for a moment. How the hell could he find a family member? My only child had disappeared off the face of the earth along with my only grandchild over 20 years ago, they were both probably dead or didn't even know I existed. In any case there was no way...