Have you ever gotten into a lengthy conversation with anyone that wanted to warn you about the dangers of becoming the child of an aging parent? Me neither but I’m starting to wish I would have had some warning as to what was going to happen and how soon I should begin searching for a qualified therapist for my sister.
Last year I moved to a city that is 208 miles away from my mother. This is not an easy distance when all mom needs is a few bananas or her garbage hauled out and due to the fact that my sister lives only two miles away, she absorbs the brunt of mom’s aging parent requests. I feel sorry for my sister at times but I too, have been in situations over the years that haven’t been all that pleasant.
I will most likely never forget mom’s last surgery. It was the day from hell.
My husband and I were living an hour from my parent’s house and mom’s surgery was scheduled at a hospital 3 1/2 hours from their house so the day began very early. If I typed out every detail as it happened this story would never end so I will summarize.
It was pouring rain the moment we woke up and continued until late that afternoon. We could barely get out of our town as the street going by our house had been removed so that new sewer pipes could be installed. We found out the road to my parent’s house was closed so we had to turn around and take a different route. My parents knew the road was closed but forgot to tell us. Dad had diabetes so when we loaded his insulin and other medications into the van we learned that he forgot to zip the bag shut and everything in the bag landed in the mud puddle just outside the van door. Once we were on the road my dad kept insisting the van was full of mosquitoes that I couldn’t see so to appease him I finally started violently swatting the windshield. We arrived one minute early and the first thing on mom’s mind was pee. After finding a restroom for her we got her registered and headed to her hospital room. The nurse came in to weigh her and check her vitals and also told her they were going to need a urine sample. My mom looked horrified as she had just sent her sample into the sewer. We all knew what that meant. Drink, drink, drink and finally there was pee wee wee. The surgery went well but the drugs for pain had a rather ridiculous effect on mom. She had told me before her surgery that she was going to want to look nice afterwards so I needed to be sure and have her makeup ready for her. Once she was moved out of recovery and into her room my husband and I decided to go and get some food. We noticed how hot and humid the day had gotten and we also noticed how dark the sky was getting. We picked up some food for ourselves and dad and headed back to the hospital. As we walked in the door we were herded into the basement and told there were several tornadoes spotted. We could hear sirens going off and the wind was blowing like crazy and I remember someone telling us we would be in that basement until all was clear. My husband and I had eaten our food and due to the fact that we had gotten up around 3 am I was drifting off until the shock hit me that dad needed his insulin and the food we had for him! The staff understood and told us they would let us out of the basement but the only way to get to mom’s room would be to take the stairs. All eleven flights! I remember calling my husband “Wilt Frickin Chamberlain” as he ran up the stairs and I sort of remember feeling like pond scum as those stairwells were most likely 90+ degrees with 100% humidity. I wanted to die but I knew it would be tough in a place like that. They’re all about saving people so I trudged on, panting like a dog and eventually I reached the summit about the time they were rolling mom’s bed back into her room. Apparently they roll patients into the hallways when storms hit but the worst had passed and once we were in her room she asked for her makeup. Dad was going to have a cow but I had a pretty good start on the day from hell at this point and I told him to button his lip! I handed her the makeup and what happened next will be forever burned in my memory and in the memory of the nurse she scared half to death.
She took her white concealer and drew big circles around her eyes. The lipstick was next and mom kept an ample supply of the reddest red lipstick she could find and that’s what lit up her new look next. It went from ear to ear. I was afraid she would hurt herself with the eyeliner so I told her it must have fallen into the mud puddle back at their house and she believed me. About the time she popped the top off the maskera a nurse walked in and walked back out. Dad was fit to be tied and I gave him one of those looks that convinced him the button on his lip had better stay buttoned. I could tell he wasn’t sure it would hold so he voluntarily added a zipper!
By the end of the day I had a headache the size of Mt. Everest but I knew I had a lot of things to be thankful for. Mom’s surgery went well. We all returned home safely and life went on.
Several years have passed since mom’s last surgery and now she could really use a new knee but so far she has a thousand reasons why she shouldn’t get one. My sister is trying to convince her that she needs to get something done as that knee isn’t getting any better. I will do almost anything I can to help but if mom does have surgery I really hope she has the “makeup” talk with my sister this time. I’m not sure I have what it takes to witness anything like that ever again!