doctor’s visit

Payin’ for My Raisin’

I used to hear that phrase a lot when I messed up as a kid. “You’re gonna have to pay for your raisin’.” Truer words were never spoken. At ninety-six, my mother lives quite happily in an independent living apartment. Well, she should be happy. She has friends, eats three meals a day in the dining room, has her apartment cleaned, and her laundry done. The only thing she does is make her bed.

This morning, I picked Mother up at nine am for her doctor’s appointment. I drooped her off right at the entry, parked the car, and escorted her to the office, got her seated and checked in.

“How long till they take us back?” she asked.

“Probably not long.” I told her. “We’re a few minutes early.”

“I hope not.” she grumbled. “It’s cold in here.”

They called her in at nine-thirty on the dot, her appointment time. “Right on time.” I said. “That’s good.”

They weighed her, took her to a room, and checked her vitals. A very nice medical assistant took her medication list and history. “I’ll be back to take you for a scan. she told Mother.

“I hope she gets right back. There’s no point in keeping me waiting. What else does she have to do?” Mother complained.

The woman was back in seven minutes. “I’m sorry you had to wait. I had two ahead of you.” she explained. She took Mother’s arm, carefully walking her to the scan. I relaxed, looking forward to checking my email while Mother was occupied. It seemed like they were back in less than five minutes.

“I’ll tell the nurse you’re ready.” the assistant said.

“How long will that nurse be?”Mother queried before the door closed.

“I don’t know. You saw the office was full. Maybe it won’t be too long. “ I said.

“They ought not to book so many.” She was kind of crabby. I reminded her she only has this big check up yearly and has to have a lot done. Last year we were here three hours.

“It will take as long as it takes. We’ll go to lunch when we’re done.” I reminded her.

“I’m already hungry. Oh yeah. I have to take my medicine!” She dug through her jacket and pants pockets fruitlessly. “Dern, I don’t have it. What’s gonna happen if I don’t get it on time? I’ve never been late before.”

That was news to me. I could have sworn we’ve been through this dozens of times.

“Mother, look again. I’m sure you have it. There it is! You can get a cup of water when the nurse comes in.” No such luck. I had to ask for a cup of water.

We waited. Mother fussed. “Where is that nurse? Did she go off to lunch and leave me waiting?” Mother is not usually fussy but she was wound up today.

“Mother, they have a lot of staff here. I’m sure they don’t go off and leave you waiting. They’ll be here when they get here. We just have to wait.” I tried to sound patient.

At eleven, the nurse saw Mother,and broke the news it would be a short wait till she could see the doctor as well as have an xray and go to lab. Mother smiled sweetly. When the door closed, I braced myself.

“We’ve been here forever. I’m ready to go!” She spouted.

“Well, we can’t till we’re done.” I told her. By noon we were out the door. Can you imagine how many times Mother lived through this scenario with five children?

I Can’t Hear You!

I’ve neglected my WordPress friends the last week or so. Mother had a bad cold with extreme head congestion, so severe, she lost her hearing for a few days. I have a new respect now for people with disabilities. Mother is doing much better as the fluid in her ears resorbs, and expects to totally regain her hearing over the next few weeks, thank goodness.

I was really busy taking her to several doctors visits.  When visiting an unfamiliar doctor for hearing issues, I could tell that due to her age and deafness, they could have easily  have inferred her biggest issue was cognitive, not hearing.

She stayed with us several nights. She had to put medication in her ears several times a day and insert cotton to give it time to absorb. Mother is obsessive. Since her doctor said “a few minutes” she decided continuous cotton plugs might be better. Naturally, this didn’t improve her hearing a bit. Mother is garrulous, to say the least. When she couldn’t hear conversation, she’d shout, “I can’t hear you. I’ve got cotton in my ears.”

I urged her, “Take the cotton out. You’ll hear better,”

Her shouted reply was, “I can’t hear you. I’ve got cotton in my ears!”

When we picked up her medications, including an antibiotic, she bought yogurt to avoid antibiotic-related problems. She has meticulously eaten yogurt when to avoid antibiotic problems as long as I can remember. In fact, she is a great champion for yogurt with antibiotics, reminding the general public, even in the line at the pharmacy. She’s had way more experience with this than I have, even though I am a nurse.  Since she’d been away from home several days and was feeling better except for deafness, she decided she’d rather go to her own house.  I was a little worried how she’d manage, but took her home, knowing I could easily go back and get her if she had trouble.

At any rate, not ten minutes after she got home with the antibiotic and yogurt, I got a call.  “Does it matter what kind of yogurt I eat?  I got the vanilla yogurt in the carton, not the frozen kind.”

I knew she could barely hear, so I spoke succinctly and clearly.  “That’s fine.”  I know she had just put cotton back in her ears, since she could hear a little in the doctor’s office.

“What?  I can’t hear you.  I’ve got cotton in my ears!”

“Take the cotton out!”  Like I’d never met her, I waited.  By the time she came back on the phone, I’d kicked my phone volume to max.   “That yogurt is fine! It’s fine!”

Her response, “I can’t hear you with this cotton in my ears.  Did you say this vanilla yogurt is right or wrong?”

I don’t know what she was doing while I was holding for her to get the cotton out of her ears.  “It’s right!  It’s right.  Vanilla is right!”  The neighbors probably heard me.

She patiently tried again to clarify, making it more hopeless.  “I can’t hear you.  Did you say it is right that vanilla yogurt is wrong or that not getting the frozen kind is right?”

I knew now the conversation was so convoluted, there was no way we’d ever straighten this out.  I would have tried to text her, but Mother is hostile to texting.  That would have gotten me a furious phone call. I cut my losses and headed back to her house.

While on the way over, I got a call from my sister who is also a nurse.  “Mother is asking about yogurt, but she can’t hear me answer.  Do I need to go see about her?”

Just so you know, she is getting better every day.