Smaller Mercies

My mom's kind of losing it, you might have figured out by now. I just spent four hours with her and she said a hundred goofy things, many of them to doctors and nurses, who looked at me like I knew what she was talking about.

Some days, it takes all my powers of concentration to untwist what she says and accurately explain to another what she means.

I filled out reams of paperwork for her upcoming surgery, taking way longer to document her medical history than the operation itself will take. Then two nurses and an anesthesiologist questioned her about what I'd written, as if she had a clue.

"So, you're allergic to penicillin," Nurse Ann said.

"Yes."

"What happens to you?"

"I get bumps all over."

"Ah, hives."

"Yes, hives. But it hasn't happened for a very long time...I don't work out in the yard anymore."

Nurse Ann looked at me for the interpretation, as if my mother had spoken in tongues and I was responsible for making her message clear. I shrugged slightly to indicate my ignorance, but I continued to ponder this in my heart.

Nurse Donna took over for round two. "So, I see here you're allergic to penicillin."

"Yes," my mother said. "And I'm allergic to one other thing, too...(Her voice and facial expression both trail off at this point.) But I don't think it has anything to do with surgery."

"What is it?" Nurse Donna asked, but not without cutting a glance to me first.

"That thing that happens when you go outside."

Now they're both looking at me as if I'm Moses just come down from the mountain.

"Poison ivy?" I ask.

"That's it." My mother is all smiles now, satisfied that it only took three of us to make one whole woman.

It was a relief to get out of there. I want to help my mother retain the dignity she still has, to allow her to answer her own questions, to not speak up for her prematurely. But it's not always easy, especially when I sense others are impatient with her ramblings.

On the way through the lobby, I spied the widest wheelchair I've ever seen. I pictured wheeling my mother (no petite specimen) out in it after her knee surgery, and ascertained that it just might do the trick.

"Look at that wheelchair, Mom," I said. "That's what I'd call a double-wide."

She examined it in all its glory.

"So," she answered, "would that be for, like....twins?"

That's all it took to make the day a keeper.

Posted by Katy on 09/13/04 at 03:34 PM

Fallible Comments...

Ahh...Mom...we'll have some stories to share next Monday at the hospital, that's for sure. She was in rare form last weekend when the kids and I were there, too. Each visit is an experience...
-----
Posted by Bridget on 09/14/04 at 12:41 AM
Bridget--How fortunate are we that Mom came through the surgery so WELL?? She's doing great, and I'm grateful...
Posted by Katy on 09/24/04 at 03:44 PM
There are different kinds of masks for different purposes; some are deep cleansing for cleaning the pores, healing acne scars or hyper-pigmentation, or brightening for a gradual illumination of the skin tone. The perceived effect of a facial mask treatment can be revitalizing, rejuvenating or refreshing and can serve temporary or long term benefits depending on its usage.<a href="www.keratosisremoval.com">Keratosis</a>
Posted by Keratosis on 08/27/10 at 01:51 AM

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Personal blog of christian writer & fallible mom Katy McKenna Raymond in Kansas City, Missouri Katy is represented by Greg Johnson at WordServe Literary Read more Katy at LateBoomer.net Follow Katy on Twitter Follow Katy on Facebook 123 Recent Posts Try Becoming Brenda Starr Off Beat Scattered That’s It So I’ve Finally Signed With An Agent. Now What? The Spoon Sciatica Sweetheart A Woman’s Train of Thought Has No Caboose However much we own, we are all still living on borrowed time After all, when restaurants shrink portions, they don’t shrink prices. As with everything in life, balance is key. Slow down, you move too fast… Yeah, I know. I have issues. Search Advanced Search Syndicate Login E me at katy @ ngenius.com	Smaller Mercies My mom's kind of losing it, you might have figured out by now. I just spent four hours with her and she said a hundred goofy things, many of them to doctors and nurses, who looked at me like I knew what she was talking about. Some days, it takes all my powers of concentration to untwist what she says and accurately explain to another what she means. I filled out reams of paperwork for her upcoming surgery, taking way longer to document her medical history than the operation itself will take. Then two nurses and an anesthesiologist questioned her about what I'd written, as if she had a clue. "So, you're allergic to penicillin," Nurse Ann said. "Yes." "What happens to you?" "I get bumps all over." "Ah, hives." "Yes, hives. But it hasn't happened for a very long time...I don't work out in the yard anymore." Nurse Ann looked at me for the interpretation, as if my mother had spoken in tongues and I was responsible for making her message clear. I shrugged slightly to indicate my ignorance, but I continued to ponder this in my heart. Nurse Donna took over for round two. "So, I see here you're allergic to penicillin." "Yes," my mother said. "And I'm allergic to one other thing, too...(Her voice and facial expression both trail off at this point.) But I don't think it has anything to do with surgery." "What is it?" Nurse Donna asked, but not without cutting a glance to me first. "That thing that happens when you go outside." Now they're both looking at me as if I'm Moses just come down from the mountain. "Poison ivy?" I ask. "That's it." My mother is all smiles now, satisfied that it only took three of us to make one whole woman. It was a relief to get out of there. I want to help my mother retain the dignity she still has, to allow her to answer her own questions, to not speak up for her prematurely. But it's not always easy, especially when I sense others are impatient with her ramblings. On the way through the lobby, I spied the widest wheelchair I've ever seen. I pictured wheeling my mother (no petite specimen) out in it after her knee surgery, and ascertained that it just might do the trick. "Look at that wheelchair, Mom," I said. "That's what I'd call a double-wide." She examined it in all its glory. "So," she answered, "would that be for, like....twins?" That's all it took to make the day a keeper. Posted by Katy on 09/13/04 at 03:34 PM Fallible Comments... Ahh...Mom...we'll have some stories to share next Monday at the hospital, that's for sure. She was in rare form last weekend when the kids and I were there, too. Each visit is an experience... ----- Posted by Bridget on 09/14/04 at 12:41 AM Bridget--How fortunate are we that Mom came through the surgery so WELL?? She's doing great, and I'm grateful... Posted by Katy on 09/24/04 at 03:44 PM There are different kinds of masks for different purposes; some are deep cleansing for cleaning the pores, healing acne scars or hyper-pigmentation, or brightening for a gradual illumination of the skin tone. The perceived effect of a facial mask treatment can be revitalizing, rejuvenating or refreshing and can serve temporary or long term benefits depending on its usage.<a href="www.keratosisremoval.com">Keratosis</a> Posted by Keratosis on 08/27/10 at 01:51 AM Page 1 of 1 pages Commenting is not available in this weblog entry. Next entry: What I Know For Sure Previous entry: I'll See It When I Believe It << Back to main


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Personal blog of christianwriter & fallible momKaty McKenna Raymondin Kansas City, Missouri

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Smaller Mercies

Personal blog of christian
writer & fallible mom
Katy McKenna Raymond
in Kansas City, Missouri