Thursday, January 29, 2009

oh yeah...?



WELL, YOU SHOULD SEE THE OTHER GUY!

1st off, i need to tell you that she's a-ok. ok?

outline of the morning -

5:38 a.m.
(ring, ring, ring...)
"hell-o"
"blah blah blah your mom had a fall this morning. she's on her way to baylor hospital."

5:58 a.m.
(i walk over to mom all tubed and wired up in a hospital bed and take her hand...)
"hey good lookin'. how you feelin'?
"i'm ok." (smile)
"what happened?"
"i don't know."

6:00-7:00
"how'd you get here?"
"where?"
"the hospital."
(she cocks her head...) "i don't know..."
"did you get to ride in an ambulance?"
"...an ambulance...i did...clear across town in an ambulance. it took a long time."
she never did remember she'd fallen, but i heard about "goin' clear across town" a dozen times. (it's a 5 minute ride.)

........................................

"i was lying here in this bed looking out at that hallway yesterday. i remember being here yesterday."
"no, mom, this just happened this morning."
"i'm sorry you have to spend your day babysitting your mom again today..."
(again??)"no, ma'am. this just happened an hour or two ago."


(repeat the above a dozen times...)

"...going clear across town in an ambulance...someone in the ambulance mentioned alzheimer's..."(pause.)
then she asked me,"if you were told you had alzheimer's would it make you feel any different about things?"

(my mom has never been an analytical person. or a thinker, yet this is a profound question. particularly the word *feel* in that sentence.)

i thought for a while and said, "i don't know."
i thought for a while longer and finally asked the obvious, "how does it make you feel?"
"i don't know," she said.

................................................

8:00-9:00
at some point the subject of leaving the hospital came up and she asked, "where would we go?"
"back to Vickery Towers."
"hmmmm...i'm trying to think what that means to me...back to vickery towers...?...i don't really know what i'm thinking, if that makes any sense.

.................................................

9:00 a.m.
getting restless. pulling on and messing with all those hoses and wires and sticky things attached to her chest and arms and finger...kept sitting up and tugging on things. trying to get free. wanted her nightgown sleeves back on her arms. tugging on tubes and wires and sticky things...pulling on her sleeves...

all the while, i'm asking her/telling her to please lay down, please be patient just a few more minutes, the tests are all run, we'll be leaving soon, lay back down, the nurse will remove those pesky things real soon...eventually she decided if she couldn't get her arms in the sleeves the best thing she could do was to just take it off.

i pretty much got the full monty.

some day i guess i'll be the one to wash her ass and lift her saggy boobs to wash under them, but...but......

"come on, mom let's get this nightgown back on you. the doctor will be back soon to remove those hoses and stuff. we'll be leaving real soon. i promise."

..........................................................

bottom line:

1 full monty.
1 ekg, 1 head/neck ct scan, 1 hip x-ray. all results normal.
1 laceration over the eye. *stitched* with super glue or something.
1 bad-ass shiner.
1 bad-ass lady.

...........................................................

as cousin nance, who gave us a ride home, said,
"all that adventure and home by 10:00 a.m."


and mary anne smiled.


16 comments:

~Betsy said...

I hate phone calls early in the morning. They are never a good call.

Glad mom is OK. You're a good son.

Annie said...

I know you said she's fine, but I can't help the tears anyway.

Her question about feeling different about things got to me. Do you think she might almost feel a little comforted knowing that the confusion she feels is because of a disease?

When Mom first moved in with me, she would get frustrated and say things like "I can't do anything, I am so stupid." It fucking pissed me off that she thought she was stupid. Still does, obviously.

Anyway, glad she's ok and the smile on her face despite the shiner is beautiful.

josephine terese said...

oh my oh my i'm glad you were there to help.

promise never to show me the full monty.

cornbread hell said...

hi there, betsy. thank you.

annie - that's very insightful. you may well be right. (or as mom would say, "i don't know."

josephine i promise. cross my heart and hope to die.
but if i lose my mind...all bets are off, sweetie.
(believe me. i never Ever thought i'd be in this situation.)
ld

¸.•*´)ღ¸.•*´Chris said...

Oh Rick...this sucks hardcore. Don't you just want to wrap her up in bubblewrap and sit her in a chair now?

I never thought about it until Annie said it about being pissed about her mother thinking she was stupid. It was a feeling I felt many a time but could never identify it. Now I can and it hurts even more. How defensive we get with our LO's and the lengths we will go to protect them, from things, from others, even from themselves.

Your mom looks like a tiger with that shiner though. Wouldn't want to meet her in a dark alley any time soon. All kidding aside, I know how rough this is on her and you and I am sorry, so very sorry. She still has a dynamite smile though and that far outshines the shiner.

Sending you hugs, Rick, just cuz I can.

¸.•*´)ღ¸.•*´Chris said...

I have a new blog! Please visit me at http://snicks-world.blogspot.com/

cornbread hell said...

you know what chris?

i do not want to wrap her in bubble wrap and sit her in a chair.

i'd much rather she could go out dancing. (in a bubble-wrapped room, maybe.)

but then, i can wish all i want, can't i?...

in the meantime, i'll just settle for being grateful for no broken bones and for a world of a smile and for a genuine hand to hold.

cornbread hell said...

p.s.

chris -
i'm headed over to your new blog now.

rilera said...

Rick, I'm so glad your Mom is OK. She is a beautiful lady with a wonderful son. Cherish every moment that you have with her, even the ones that involve a full monty. They are memories before you know it. Hugs

cornbread hell said...

you know what, robyn? i think that is sage advice.

and i will do my darnedest to heed it.

thanks.

Lily said...

The first time I was treated to mum's full monty was when I really felt that the parenting roles had switched. Nakedness takes us back to helpless childhood. It still feels wrong that I should see her so exposed so I can't imagine how a son would feel! Can you afford the therapy?

cornbread hell said...

lily, the therapy was short & cheap. i just slapped myself in the face real hard a few times.

Lily said...

rofl!

rainbowheart said...

Rick,
I hope and pray that your Mom is doing well. One day you will look back and laugh about the "full monty." Take care of you....

Cinnamin said...

Ouch! Glad to hear that Mom is doing OK.

Concern; when I first saw this photo and read that your Mom had fallen.

Laughter; when I read your hospital experience with "Monty".

Tears; as I recall similar conversations with my own Mom.

Appreciation; for you Rick, for sharing with us as you do your best by your Mom. Give her another hug, would you?

bulletholes said...

That question got me too....I can imagine the context it might have been asked in, as though she doesn't really know what Alzheimers is.
Dad would have asked that question too. He would ask it in all innocence, just wondering how the hell he was sopposed to feel about it.
She looks like a Tiger!