DJ Mrs White In The Library With The Lead Pipe (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} djmrswhite) wrote,@ 2008-02-20 06:14:00 |
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The Phoning, The Crying, The Glaring, The Souping, The Mocking, Plus The Improv
Got home to my brother's house from the nursing home at around 4pm only to get a phone call from my mom at around 6pm, prompting a return visit to the nursing home.
For all you more-recently-added folks, she cannot speak or read or write anymore because of the stroke, but she's got her numbers down after three years of practice, so she knows how to dial a phone and wail into it.
So I got the call and she's crying on the other end. And because she can't talk there's no telling what this is about. The nurse takes the phone and tells me that my mother has dragged herself up into her wheelchair, rolled out to the nurses station and is howling. Why, no one knows.
I drive back over, walk in and find her back in bed, her dinner on a tray in front of her, two nurses in the room, and she's just sitting there glaring angrily at everything and everyone, including me.
The nurses leave the room.
"What's up?" I say.
No response.
"I have no idea what's going on. I left you at 3:30 as you were falling asleep. I told you I was going to Matt & Jill's, I told you I'd see you in the morning. Do you remember any of that?"
Glare.
"You gonna eat your dinner?"
Glare. Shakily picks up the soup spoon, which means soup is about to fly everywhere.
"Do you want me to help you with that?"
Glare. So I put tomato soup in her mouth. Then she throws her napkin over the rest of the tray.
"You don't want this dirty-looking cube of meat? Your bird-poop-like mac and cheese? Nothing else somewhat gross on this tray is appealing to you, Miss Angry?"
This finally made her laugh a little. More like a "fuck you" chortle than a laugh. But I'm pretty excellent at defusing the bomb with her.
Then she said, "Muh muh muh muh muh."
"Well since I don't know what that means, and since you're being weird right now, I'm going to assume that you're praising me effusively and telling me that I'm the best thing that ever happened to you."
This made her laugh a little more, "Muh muh muh muh."
"Why yes, I DO agree that I'm amazing," I said.
I never found out why she was angry or why she'd been crying. I assume that she woke up from the nap she began when it was light outside. Then when she woke up it was dark. It was past dinner time and no one had woken her for it, which is normal. She was disoriented and probably forgot that I told her I was leaving until this morning and then freaked out.
ps. turning off comments because i don't wanna read any "oh you're such a good son" whatever. you don't deserve mqq2wxdsdsawdssssssssssssssssssddstdfsas
[note: that last bit of keyboard chaos comes courtesy of my 4 year-old nephew. i made the mistake of calling him 3 years-old the other day. i have been corrected. anyway, he's going to be a writer someday too as anyone can plainly see from the above evidence. it makes as much sense as a lot of the shit i write]
anyway, back to the sentence i was composing before he jumped in for his drum solo. you don't deserve a halo because you behave like a person ought to behave. you deserve a four year old to come smash your keyboard.
Got home to my brother's house from the nursing home at around 4pm only to get a phone call from my mom at around 6pm, prompting a return visit to the nursing home.
For all you more-recently-added folks, she cannot speak or read or write anymore because of the stroke, but she's got her numbers down after three years of practice, so she knows how to dial a phone and wail into it.
So I got the call and she's crying on the other end. And because she can't talk there's no telling what this is about. The nurse takes the phone and tells me that my mother has dragged herself up into her wheelchair, rolled out to the nurses station and is howling. Why, no one knows.
I drive back over, walk in and find her back in bed, her dinner on a tray in front of her, two nurses in the room, and she's just sitting there glaring angrily at everything and everyone, including me.
The nurses leave the room.
"What's up?" I say.
No response.
"I have no idea what's going on. I left you at 3:30 as you were falling asleep. I told you I was going to Matt & Jill's, I told you I'd see you in the morning. Do you remember any of that?"
Glare.
"You gonna eat your dinner?"
Glare. Shakily picks up the soup spoon, which means soup is about to fly everywhere.
"Do you want me to help you with that?"
Glare. So I put tomato soup in her mouth. Then she throws her napkin over the rest of the tray.
"You don't want this dirty-looking cube of meat? Your bird-poop-like mac and cheese? Nothing else somewhat gross on this tray is appealing to you, Miss Angry?"
This finally made her laugh a little. More like a "fuck you" chortle than a laugh. But I'm pretty excellent at defusing the bomb with her.
Then she said, "Muh muh muh muh muh."
"Well since I don't know what that means, and since you're being weird right now, I'm going to assume that you're praising me effusively and telling me that I'm the best thing that ever happened to you."
This made her laugh a little more, "Muh muh muh muh."
"Why yes, I DO agree that I'm amazing," I said.
I never found out why she was angry or why she'd been crying. I assume that she woke up from the nap she began when it was light outside. Then when she woke up it was dark. It was past dinner time and no one had woken her for it, which is normal. She was disoriented and probably forgot that I told her I was leaving until this morning and then freaked out.
ps. turning off comments because i don't wanna read any "oh you're such a good son" whatever. you don't deserve mqq2wxdsdsawdssssssssssssssssssddstdfsas
[note: that last bit of keyboard chaos comes courtesy of my 4 year-old nephew. i made the mistake of calling him 3 years-old the other day. i have been corrected. anyway, he's going to be a writer someday too as anyone can plainly see from the above evidence. it makes as much sense as a lot of the shit i write]
anyway, back to the sentence i was composing before he jumped in for his drum solo. you don't deserve a halo because you behave like a person ought to behave. you deserve a four year old to come smash your keyboard.
