Whose Crazy Idea

Arriving at The Community* on Monday, I headed first to the beauty salon where mom had an appointment scheduled for today.  Unlike the supportive living facility, the beautician that runs this beauty shop does not actually have set times for people.  She schedules people on a certain day and then fits them in when she can.  This is not ideal for mom; she likes to have a set time.  She would prefer to have me take her to the beauty shop and sit with her.

When I saw Sharon* the beautician, I asked her if she had taken care of mom’s hair yet.  She had completely forgotten about mom and was all done for the day.  Since my mom’s hair takes less than 30 minutes from start to finish, I asked her if I could go up and bring mom down right now.  Sharon* agreed.

Mom was in the activity room watching a Christmas movie. I mentioned that she had a hair appointment and wheeled her out of the room.

On our way to the salon mom said, “Julienne, I’m sorry for being a problem for you on Thanksgiving.”

“Mom, I am happy you came to our home and glad we all celebrated Thanksgiving together.”   

“You are . . . even though I was a pill.”

“Yes, of course, I wanted you to be there.”

“Julienne, whose crazy idea was it for me to sleep over?”

“Mom, the idea was yours.”

“Julienne, sometimes I talk out of my mind.  Ignore me.”

“Mom, I was just trying to make you happy.”

 “Julienne, I am too much too handle.”

“I agree, but Ron was going to help me.”

“I am too much for both of you.  If I ever say something stupid like that again don’t listen to me.”

“Ok, mom, I promise.”

I sat and spoke with Sharon* while mom had her hair done.  Sharon* does a lot of charity work which I enjoyed hearing about.  When Sharon* was finished with mom’s hair, she said, “How does your mom’s hair look?”

“Mom likes her hair a little fuller on the sides.”

Mom became restless, “Julienne, don’t be fussy.  Let’s go.”

Mom and I went back to mom’s room so I could organize her closet and make sure everything was clean.  Mom said, “Julienne, I have a secret to tell you.”

“Mom, I am all ears.  What is your secret?”

“Don’t tell them I told you!”

“I won’t.  What is the secret?”

“When I am in bed, they give me something to go.”

“Are you constipated again?”

“No . . . to go to heaven!”

“Mom, please explain what do they give you?”

“I don’t know, but I tell them I am ready to go.  They put something in and tell me to breath.  When it’s morning I wake up, I’m still here.”

“Mom, every night when you go to bed they give you oxygen and tell you to breathe in.  The oxygen helps you breathe and makes you more comfortable.”

“Sometimes they yell at me.  They say you can’t tell God when you want to go.”

“Mom, when you are frustrated . . . pray.  When God is ready He will come for you.”

Mom showed me that her feet were badly swollen again.  The same thing happened about a month ago.  I spoke with Billy* who told me she would talk with mom’s doctor to see if they could double up on lasics and potassium for three days like they did the last time her legs were swollen.  Apparently patients with COPD and congestive heart failure retain fluids because their heart does not work properly.

Mom wanted to pray before I left so we said the ‘Our Father’ and ‘Mom is the Light’. 

I wheeled mom back to the activity room, all the residents had Christmas song sheets.  They were presently singing Joy to the World.  After the song was over, Shirley* announced that they were going to play Bingo.  I sat mom next to Darlene*.  Mom said, “Julienne, Darlene always wins.”

I looked at Darlene* who said,  “I am lucky. Even when I used to go to the VFW I would win a game every time.”

 

“Good for you, Darlene, maybe some of your luck will transfer to mom, too.”

We all smiled. I wished mom and Darlene* a beautiful day; they both wished me one back.  Mom and I hugged tightly and kissed.  As I left mom and Darlene* had beautiful smiles, mom was blowing me kisses and of course, I was blowing them back.