Monday, July 28, 2014 

Every morning, I lie to my mother.

Sandy!

What mom?

What time is it?

It’s only 7:00 am. (It’s really 8 am, but I need more time at my desk.)

Wake me when it’s 9 o’clock.

Ok mom.

 

Sandy!

What mom?

What time is it?

It’s only 8:00 am. (By now, it’s 9:30 am. I still need more time and quiet. Bad enough I have to put up with Valentino barking.)

Wake me up when it’s 9 o’clock.

Too late for that mom. Guilt usually gets me around 10 o’clock. Then the ritual of taking her to the bathroom, changing her, combing her hair, and feeding her breakfast begins. Did I mention the many trips to the bathroom: Sandy, I’m just going to the bathroom—whereon I drop everything, don my nonlatex gloves, and wait for mom to do her thing. Mostly I wait while she tells me she cannot “go.” Then I clean the toilet, the sink, the faucets, the bathtub (where she grabs the edge), and the doorknobs, and make a pile of any towels she has touched during the night. Actually, this routing goes on continually, even through the night when I myself get up to use the facilities. I keep a container of Lysol wipes handy for every trip to the bathroom. At night, I turn on the light to inspect and clean.

 

My patience is wearing very, very thin these days. The rain and mold are taking their toll, and Mom and Valentino push me to the edge—he with his barking and mom with her frequent trips to the toilet. At least she is not totally incontinent. There are mistakes and accidents, but they are rare. Most of the time, she is blocked up. When we administer the MiraLax, the routine becomes more demanding.

 

Mom’s cereal bowl is already full, but we are out of milk. I am hoping Rob has another bottle in the basement refrigerator. Otherwise, I will have to trot on over to Hershey Harvest for a bottle of raw milk.

Roofers are due tomorrow. So is my brother, who will take us out on one of his bimonthly luncheons. Weather should be good (otherwise, I won’t have to worry about the roofers). He has just returned from a trip abroad with his daughters and a friend to visit family and spend time away. He will tell us very little, except maybe how family was. One family member already asked me to “friend” him on Facebook. I did. Unfortunately, I rarely post anything on Facebook and rarely go on even to check out what others are sending. It’s too public for my taste.

Mom is in the bathroom now. She made it there herself and is brushing her teeth—a 5-minute process. She just brushes and brushes and brushes. I think she forgets how long she has spent at the sink. But she is good now about turning the water off until she needs it. I reminded her only once, and she remembered. It was part of her modus operandi—to be conscious of waste: Turn that light out. You don’t need it. Or Close that door. You’re letting the hot air in. Some things never change.

Later—

Mom had her first session at the chiropractor today. She had no clue what was going on. Took her there because of her low back and knee pain. Turns out she has mild scoliosis—par for the course at her age. Going to return for a second visit on Friday.

As we sat there, she kept insisting upon service.

Where is she? Tell her we have someplace to go. I don’t want to sit here all day.

This, while she was attached to the TENS unit. When mom finally got on the adjustment table, she said, What are you doing? There were also a few ouches, but nothing worse than that.

While we were there, I had Dr. B. adjust my neck. Feels a million percent better. Turns out I should not sleep with my hand under my head. Who knew? He said it would compromise my shoulder and result in shoulder pain, extending the period during which my shoulder had to work. Again: Who knew?

We took a trip over to the Shoppes at Wyomissing for a turn at a new burger joint. Really good burgers and fries. A rare indulgence. Mom, however, had her turn at spitting up watery mucus. I think she suffers from allergies. It’s a bit more green here than it was in Bayonne.

She sat out on the porch for a while, totally unaware of where she was. Later she asked if I had any clothes she could change into. I told her that her clothes were in her room.

Oh I didn’t know my clothes were here.

Mom, do you know where you are?

As we walked into the kitchen, she said that she had been here before. But she clearly did not recognize it as the kitchen where she eats breakfast and does her word puzzles for hours every day. Oh well.

Maybe the porch looked different. I had the furniture covered with drop cloths in preparation for the roofers tomorrow. Much dust and mess expected. But they will be done in a day. Sure hope it isn’t too hot. I would hate to see those men scurrying up there in horrible heat. But the high is forecast as 77 degrees and mostly sunny. Not bad. I only pray they do not uncover any bad wood. That will be an unwelcome finding. Mom, of course, won’t hear a thing. But she might notice the men on the lawn and the trucks out front. Her son will be here tomorrow to take her to lunch. And Valentino will be at the groomer. Oh happy day.