I'm at my mother's. Again. For awhile. Yesterday, mid-morning, I got a call from her. She had fallen, she said. She thought she had broken her shoulder. The other one. I jumped in my car and went right over. When I got there, she was covered in a towel. She had just finished swimming in the neighbor's pool and had gone into her own back yard to get a garbage can. She had tripped on a stepping stone and gone down. She is 89, now with one broken shoulder and one that has more metal than bone. And she got up. Went into the house. Took off her wet bathing suit. And called me. I wrapped her in a robe. I was going to drive her to the hospital, but I decided trying to get her up in my Xterra was not going to work. I called 911. They sent an ambulance. I told her I would meet her at the hospital. Of course, the ambulance and the fire truck in front of the house had attracted the neighbors. I told them what had happened.
When I got to the emergency room, they gave me a badge with my picture on it and let me walk back to her holding room. I was surprised that they were so loose in the time of Covid. I got to the room just as she was being wheeled in, at the same time as the doctor. We stood in the hallway and I explained what had happened. He looked her over and ordered X-rays. They had given her a shot of narcotics, so she was in less pain than she might have been.
Then the long wait. After an hour, they wheeled her down the hallway. An hour and a half later, they wheeled her back. She said that the techs moving her arm for X-rays had been brutal. An hour later, the doctor came in and said her shoulder was broken in the ball of the ball and socket. He didn't think it would require surgery, but she would be seeing an orthopedic doctor in the coming week and they would decide. He wrote her prescriptions for Percocet and Flexeril and some Lidocaine patches. They put her arm in a sling and patched up the wound on her knee, gave her her first Percocet, and then we waited for half an hour to see if she would have a reaction. Then they discharged her. I ran to get my car. When I got back to pick her up, she was sitting in a wheelchair in a robe among a bunch of rowdy what I could only guess to be drug addicts. Not a hospital worker in site.
"What the fuck? They just sat you on the sidewalk and left you?" I was left trying to get her up into the truck on my own.
We stopped at the drugstore to pick up her prescriptions on the way to her house. After a lot of computer work, the pharmacist said that insurance would pay for the Percocet but would not pay for the Flexeril or the Lidocaine. The patches, she said, would cost $300, the Flexeril $26. She said that the Lidocaine patches were 5mg, but on the shelves they had over the counter patches with 4mg for much less. She could have it all ready in fifteen minutes.
WTF? How does an insurance program determine they won't pay for prescribed drugs? Medicare and a good prescription package from AARP. How the fuck? There is something very wrong with medical coverage in the U.S. Very, very wrong.
"How much do you think today cost?" I asked my mother. We guessed around $15,000, but we may be low. We'll see soon enough. They ran every test they could while she was in the hospital, took X-rays of everything on her left side. Precautions, sure, but they are also doing what they can to pay for the machinery of the place. Good and bad.
I got my mother set up at her house and then ran back to mine to gather my things. I will be at my mother's once again for quite awhile. I've spent much time here in the past few years. A lot of broken bones between us.
I hadn't eaten or even had a drink of water all day. I stopped and picked up that seafood pasta dish I had been thinking about, a bottle of wine, and a bottle of scotch. I had the essentials now--coffee and alcohol, my phone and my laptop. I picked up some comfort food, too. My mother said she wasn't hungry, but I knew she would need something. She enjoyed the comfort food as much as she could enjoy anything. She called relatives to let them know. She took her pills. I made her laugh. She would be fine, I said, but not for weeks. She was displeased. She had just started swimming again. Her 96 year old neighbor, a woman who lives alone, had invited my mother to use her pool any time. Well, I said, she would be back in it in a few months. Now she just had to heal. The intense pain would subside little by little, and in a week or two, walking with the sling wouldn't be as painful. We would take walks until she could use her arm again.
Fortunately, I have a Firestick on my mother's television. She never uses it, but I wasn't going to be watching commercial television. I brought up Netflix and we scrolled through trying to find something to watch. "Blacklist." Seven seasons. Maybe we might both find something of interest in it. We tried the first episode. Neither of us loved it, but what the hell. We watched a couple more. By eleven, I was ready for bed. When I woke up, my mother was sleeping in a recliner, the same one I slept in for months after getting run over.
It is Sunday. Everything is familiar. Everything is strange. I have coffee. I've read the news, such as it is. And now, I've made my post. My mother is still dozing. Little rain is forecast today. I wait to see what the day will bring.
I think I had just texted you that my own Mother was pissing me off shortly before This Event occurred.
Boy, did I feel bad.
My own mother was being incredibly - well - she says things that are mean - said to make me feel guilty about living, I think because she says she doesn't want to anymore. I try to have patience - and I do but sometimes ........
Anyway. I'm really sorry for your Ma's fall and subsequent pain. And also know that you, too- will be facing your own challenges over the next weeks. You are a Good Son, Batman.
Make sure to activate the Church Chain! I'm sure there will be people looking to help in any way they can. You'll need some relief - and I don't say that in a way that means to insult your Mom - but you will. For your own sanity and self care.
There I go. Preaching. I'm sorry.
Perhaps because it is my own worst nightmare.
Finding my mother - fallen, twisted, broken and bleeding. I've had the nightmares and daymares.
I will be the one to find her in the end. Inevitable. I'm the only one here. The other day she told me she walked to my house and went down in the cellar - I have had nightmares of finding her at the bottom of those very stairs.
Ok. Enough, Lisa.
You know I'll be sending positive, healing, patience and strength energies South, for both of you. Wish I could to more - feed that cat - help. That's what friends do for each other.
You guys will make it. You are both Tough. There's no choice.
I went to see Charlotte last night. We danced to KC & the Sunshine band. She loved "Shake your Booty."
The weather here is humid - very. I'm not a huge a/c fan so the house is "moist." The dogs lazy. I'm finally cleaning up shit I haven't touched since LockDown.
I did a stupid thing and started a Jeffrey Epstein series on Netflix. I don't really want to talk about how it has permeated my brain.
I heard something from one of the Girl Recruiters that I can't shake. Nothing about what she and Epstein "did" but an event that moved her life toward Epstein at 13 or 14. I don't want to watch anymore of it -- perhaps I'll try a Romcom.
I'm going to cook for Ma tonight. I'm considering yogurt marinated chicken thighs and a cold sesame noodle salad.
Our forecast is for a difficult weather week. If the sun comes out today - it will be like living inside a terrarium.
I liked your mushroom. I like them. I had a strange feeling recently - slicing up a big portabello -- flipping it over and looking at all those gills. (maybe I reported that already). I've been told they - mushrooms - are not aerobic.
I once came upon a purple slimy one emerging from the forest floor -- it was throbbing.
I wasn't high.
First... I hope Ma isn't suffering too much. Poor thing. Make sure she is eating some fiber - those opioids can truly bind you up.
And of course, I think about U, too, Good Son. I pray for you both - in my own way - every night.
Well. I had a shit Monday but in light of real shit going on in the world - I really shouldn't complain - so I won't.
You know - your story about the kids asking if you were Peter's father - and your response - reminded me of Bill Murray in "Broken Flowers."
It was really humid here today. The AC in my car needs re-charging. The AC at one office is broke and the ac at the other office spits out tepid air. The traffic is bad -- Fourth of July week. (
Reporting not Complainging -- really ) W
hen I got home - I decided to put on my suit and do laps in the Sound instead of jumping rope or walking. I popped in to see Ma first and told her what I was doing. "Please don't drown!."
I've been swimming in the ocean since I'm an infant (well with my Pop holding me) but by 3 - I had to keep up with the older cousins - diving into and riding the waves. There are some great home movies of it all,, somew
here - (So my keyboard fis ucks up if I go back to add a word or edit -- wtf). Anyway.
SI realize she is afraid of something happening to me. And what that would mean for her . I
this is a mess -- keyboard issues.
'twas a good idea. It was windy but the water wasn't too cold. Maybe 65. I swam for 45 minutes and hauled out into a sandstorm. Natures exfoliation.
The Sea is Therapy.
The dogs aren't happy but -- sometimes I gotta put myself first. Even though the guilt is real.
Watched "Disfarmer." Please steal it. Stop stepping on your balls. Get yourself some support (your art dealer supports the project) - and set up shop.
Well. That's what I think.
"There was the first move in a maverick career that embraced both obscurity and a rigorous aesthetic."
You kinda like obscurity an have a rigorous aesthetic. Just sayin.
It's time to take a cold outdoor shower - t ready for bed.
I'm sorry this is such a mess. jThe letters keep jumping all around. :(
I'm sure you looked just fine meeting your Waitress - don't cut yourself down . Besides - it's what is inside that matters most. Yes, of course, look Good but that doesn't m
ean you have to be Brad Pitt ,ya know
Take care of yU. Wow. it's a mess. I wonder if I need a new computer.