I guess it's time for me to get political again. My activist self has been quiet for a long time, but there are so many issues of concern to me that I'm not going to stay silent any longer. Time to blast off.
Yesterday afternoon, I saw a first (for me, anyway) in the relatively wealthy Seacoast. At the intersection of Rte. 108 and Back River Rd. in Dover, a man stood in the median holding a sign which said: "Will work. Family needs help." There may have been more, but when the light turned green, I drove through the intersection fast enough that I couldn't make out the rest of the sign in the waning daylight.
I immediately began to think. Did I have work I could hire this man to do? Rake leaves? Scrub the mold off the outside of my house? Then. . . What must it be like to be reduced to standing outside holding that sign? How many family members did he have? Then. . . . could this be a scam? How many people are out there feeling that desperate or more desperate, while I have a 3 bedroom house, food, heat, new car and closets full of clothes. In short, I felt terrible.
Today the Senate voted against extending jobless benefits to those who have been unemployed for 99 weeks. 99 weeks. Just think about that. More than two years. These are the people who most need unemployment benefits. By now they would have sold everything they could have sold, used whatever savings they had, and would be on the brink of homelessness, I imagine. Are there people in the Senate who believe that these people are not trying to find work because they are so comfortable receiving their approximately $300.00 a week? How many of us can live on $300.00 per week? That amount would pay my mortgage. End of story.
And still the Republicans don't want to vote through benefits extension unless we can pay for them, at the same time that they don't want to allow taxes to rise on the wealthiest 400 Americans, who make more money than God, and who pay less than 16 per cent of their income in taxes - less, for example, than most of us pay. This is death-defying logic.
After visiting my mom, I headed to a yoga class, and on my way home, stopped at Good Will to shop for a warm coat for my mom since she has outgrown the one I bought her last year. As I browsed the racks, I felt completely guilty. The store was more crowded than I've ever seen it, and I was certain that everyone could tell that I didn't really NEED to shop at Good Will.
I wanted to announce that I was there on behalf of my mother who is now dependent on the very social programs that may well be cut in the rush to reduce the deficit. She has only $56.00 she is allowed to keep and spend out of her meager Social Security and retirement pension each month. Medicare and Medicaid pay for everything beyond what she pays to Langdon Place each month. I kept my mouth shut, found a coat I hope will zip around her ever-expanding belly, and beat feet out to the car.
I drove home so as to avoid the intersection of 108 and Back River Rd., but I hope that we will each feel inclined to listen carefully to the rhetoric coming out of Washington about deficit reduction, and contact our so-called legislators to encourage them to take steps to pass laws that will benefit the people who need the most help: the unemployed, the working poor, the elderly and those who are unable to take care of themselves. "Will Work. My family needs help."
Good Will to all.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Thursday, September 2, 2010
The check engine light of life
When the check engine light came on last March, I should have paid more attention. But my mechanic said they would try to turn it off, and if it didn't stay off, I would have to have some part of the emissions system replaced before my October inspection date. It seemed like a long time until October, so, when the light didn't turn off, I didn't worry about it (too much).
A little later, I noticed that there was a mysterious spot of something on the driveway underneath the car. I duly noted its location and reported it to my mechanic. I was afraid my radiator was leaking and that one day, I would be stranded with no water/coolant/whatever in my car (which had happened in my old car). Nope, he said, you're leaking power steering fluid, and you don't need to worry too much about that. The level is fine and the worst that will happen is you'll notice that it may get harder to steer. OK, I was fine with that. The car wasn't any harder to steer, and eventually, I didn't even notice any new spots on the driveway.
Just after that, I noticed that my front tires were pretty badly worn, so on my next oil change, I asked them to put the back tires on the front. They agreed that I would need 4 new tires before inspection in October. OK, I said. Plenty of time to take care of that.
From that moment, though, I noticed that the car drove funny. It felt the way I remember feeling when driving a car in the North Country on a 40 degree below zero morning when the tires are slightly flat where they've been resting on the cold ground. Only it wasn't 40 below. The faster I drove, the smoother the ride. It's just the car getting used to the different tires on the front, I thought. And kept driving.
When August rolled around, I was in for my oil change and asked my mechanic to also change the air filter. When the oil was changed, he came out and asked me if I were planning to get a new car any time soon. I was shocked. No, I said, but I did think I should start taking care of the various issues which had cropped up. Why?
He mentioned all the things I've mentioned above, and said, "It's going to cost you $2500.00 to get these things fixed." Little did he know. Little did I know. In the course of this conversation, it turned out that he thought I should take it to the Subaru dealer to get the Check Engine light turned off. So I did. And for $300.00 or so, they replaced the rear oxygen sensors. That was the good news. The bad news was that they told me what the mechanic had said was leaky steering fluid was actually a leaking head gasket. And the bad tires? That was actually separating rear trailing arms. Head gasket I knew, and my heart sank. Trailing arms? Really? Never heard of them.
Well, to make a long story shorter, it was going to take almost $3000.00 to put my car back into driveable, inspectable condition. NO, NO, NO!!! It wasn't time for me to have to buy a car. Yet what was the point of pouring money into a car that had 115,000 miles on it??? Thus began a nearly month-long internal debate about what to do (and for those of you who have had to listen, an external debate).
I think I despise nothing more than I despise car shopping. But last week, after driving down to Needham and feeling certain that my rear axle was going to fly apart with every pothole I hit on 128 around Boston, I knew that the time had come. My check engine light was off, but all that meant was that I had about $2800 to go before I would be safe again.
I learned some hard lessons about car maintenance on this go round. And I've learned that car salesmen are some of the sleazier people out there - or maybe they're not sleazy, but the car industry will screw you six ways to Sunday in order to maximize their profits; despite this, I am driving an ultra-safe, new-to-me, 2009 white Subaru Forester, and up to my neck in debt. While the car shopping was proceeding, I've needed electrical work done at the house; plumbing work in the kitchen and a new roof across the front of the house. Earlier this summer the kitchen ceiling had to be replaced as a consequence of a leak in the upstairs hot water pipe.
The moral to this story? When the check engine light turns on: pay attention - it's not just about your car!
A little later, I noticed that there was a mysterious spot of something on the driveway underneath the car. I duly noted its location and reported it to my mechanic. I was afraid my radiator was leaking and that one day, I would be stranded with no water/coolant/whatever in my car (which had happened in my old car). Nope, he said, you're leaking power steering fluid, and you don't need to worry too much about that. The level is fine and the worst that will happen is you'll notice that it may get harder to steer. OK, I was fine with that. The car wasn't any harder to steer, and eventually, I didn't even notice any new spots on the driveway.
Just after that, I noticed that my front tires were pretty badly worn, so on my next oil change, I asked them to put the back tires on the front. They agreed that I would need 4 new tires before inspection in October. OK, I said. Plenty of time to take care of that.
From that moment, though, I noticed that the car drove funny. It felt the way I remember feeling when driving a car in the North Country on a 40 degree below zero morning when the tires are slightly flat where they've been resting on the cold ground. Only it wasn't 40 below. The faster I drove, the smoother the ride. It's just the car getting used to the different tires on the front, I thought. And kept driving.
When August rolled around, I was in for my oil change and asked my mechanic to also change the air filter. When the oil was changed, he came out and asked me if I were planning to get a new car any time soon. I was shocked. No, I said, but I did think I should start taking care of the various issues which had cropped up. Why?
He mentioned all the things I've mentioned above, and said, "It's going to cost you $2500.00 to get these things fixed." Little did he know. Little did I know. In the course of this conversation, it turned out that he thought I should take it to the Subaru dealer to get the Check Engine light turned off. So I did. And for $300.00 or so, they replaced the rear oxygen sensors. That was the good news. The bad news was that they told me what the mechanic had said was leaky steering fluid was actually a leaking head gasket. And the bad tires? That was actually separating rear trailing arms. Head gasket I knew, and my heart sank. Trailing arms? Really? Never heard of them.
Well, to make a long story shorter, it was going to take almost $3000.00 to put my car back into driveable, inspectable condition. NO, NO, NO!!! It wasn't time for me to have to buy a car. Yet what was the point of pouring money into a car that had 115,000 miles on it??? Thus began a nearly month-long internal debate about what to do (and for those of you who have had to listen, an external debate).
I think I despise nothing more than I despise car shopping. But last week, after driving down to Needham and feeling certain that my rear axle was going to fly apart with every pothole I hit on 128 around Boston, I knew that the time had come. My check engine light was off, but all that meant was that I had about $2800 to go before I would be safe again.
I learned some hard lessons about car maintenance on this go round. And I've learned that car salesmen are some of the sleazier people out there - or maybe they're not sleazy, but the car industry will screw you six ways to Sunday in order to maximize their profits; despite this, I am driving an ultra-safe, new-to-me, 2009 white Subaru Forester, and up to my neck in debt. While the car shopping was proceeding, I've needed electrical work done at the house; plumbing work in the kitchen and a new roof across the front of the house. Earlier this summer the kitchen ceiling had to be replaced as a consequence of a leak in the upstairs hot water pipe.
The moral to this story? When the check engine light turns on: pay attention - it's not just about your car!
Friday, April 9, 2010
Dying by Degrees
I left my mom today, feeling so sad and so discouraged. All of a sudden she has become congested, hoarse and just plain back into the bronchitis which she has fought off and on since last Fall. She just two weeks ago got a clean bill of health from the pulmonologist. Now this. I know in my rational mind that at her age, any of these events could bring about her death. Yet, she is one of the most indomitable spirits I've ever known; ever cheerful in the face of adversity; always sure she will get better. She's lost most of her capacity for independent thought, and has a limited set of stock phrases which she uses to try to participate in a conversation. Excitement for her consists of my visits, a bunch of new flowers and a trip in her wheelchair down to the first floor where we check up on the current jigsaw puzzle, and I put pieces in while she tries to find a piece that has a chance of fitting somewhere in the puzzle. She is equally delighted by the pieces I put in as she is about coming close with her own piece.
I think a lot about the advantages of dying suddenly and unexpectedly as opposed to dying by degrees. I think about which is harder on the members of the family left behind. I think about the person whose life may be cut short before he/she has completed things or seen children or grandchildren grow up. I think about the long life my mom has lived and the joys and sorrows she has experienced by virtue of her 94 years. I think and I think. Some days I reach no conclusion. Today, I think how cruel it is for a person to die by degrees.
I think a lot about the advantages of dying suddenly and unexpectedly as opposed to dying by degrees. I think about which is harder on the members of the family left behind. I think about the person whose life may be cut short before he/she has completed things or seen children or grandchildren grow up. I think about the long life my mom has lived and the joys and sorrows she has experienced by virtue of her 94 years. I think and I think. Some days I reach no conclusion. Today, I think how cruel it is for a person to die by degrees.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Check Engine Light
How many hundred year floods can we have in a ten year period? I'm beginning to wonder! In the space of two weeks we have had first 90 mile/hour winds and driving rain causing flooding and massive power outages in the state followed two weekends later by 50 mph winds and at least 6 inches more of rain. The river Kwai rose in my backyard and through my basement. In spite of my efforts to stave off climate change through my energy conservation efforts, I fear that the climate in NH is changing.
They say that when we have really reached total climate change, the climate of NH will be what the climate is in North Carolina right now. I think that day may be coming sooner than we thought it would. It's March 17 and we have no snow and the snowdrops are blossoming in the woods by the screen porch. It was 68 degrees outside today and I was too warm wearing a sweatshirt and turtleneck outside raking. Ten days ago the Redwing blackbirds returned, along with the cowbirds and grackles. A generation ago (that would be in 1965 or so) I almost didn't get out of Connecticut for spring vacation because of a major blizzard closing transportation from NY City to New London, CT. Even ten years ago I have pictures of Todd and me skiing during his March vacation from college. I skiied once this year and that was farther north in the state.
I paid a lot of money to have my snowblower reconditioned and made ready for winter; then on snowstorm #2 some electrical thingy went wrong and I paid another $137 to get it fixed. For the 3 snow storms we've had, that comes to ummmm roughly one hundred dollars per storm to clear my driveway . . . . I probably should have put my money into a generator and a giant sump pump in the basement.
Maybe this year is an aberration. Maybe next year we'll have a ton of snow which will last into April. Maybe the sky will fall. It's time to turn on the check engine light of life. . .
They say that when we have really reached total climate change, the climate of NH will be what the climate is in North Carolina right now. I think that day may be coming sooner than we thought it would. It's March 17 and we have no snow and the snowdrops are blossoming in the woods by the screen porch. It was 68 degrees outside today and I was too warm wearing a sweatshirt and turtleneck outside raking. Ten days ago the Redwing blackbirds returned, along with the cowbirds and grackles. A generation ago (that would be in 1965 or so) I almost didn't get out of Connecticut for spring vacation because of a major blizzard closing transportation from NY City to New London, CT. Even ten years ago I have pictures of Todd and me skiing during his March vacation from college. I skiied once this year and that was farther north in the state.
I paid a lot of money to have my snowblower reconditioned and made ready for winter; then on snowstorm #2 some electrical thingy went wrong and I paid another $137 to get it fixed. For the 3 snow storms we've had, that comes to ummmm roughly one hundred dollars per storm to clear my driveway . . . . I probably should have put my money into a generator and a giant sump pump in the basement.
Maybe this year is an aberration. Maybe next year we'll have a ton of snow which will last into April. Maybe the sky will fall. It's time to turn on the check engine light of life. . .
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Really?
What I'm about to write flows directly from my career as an English teacher.
I don't always read the Boston Globe Sports section, but because I'm interested in the coverage of the Winter Olympics, and the start of Spring Training for the Sox, I read it yesterday. The article at the top of page 1 yesterday was about the deadly luge crash. The second sentence just made me shake my head, and wonder if the Globe even employs copy editors any more, not to mention educated writers. Here's the sentence: "News of the city sent shock waves threw this city . . . . " Really? Not "through?" Somewhere, Shira Springer's high school English teacher has just turned over in her grave.
Page 2: The headline "Goodell gets five-year deal" catches my eye. The Goodell family is connected to Chautauqua, and I had met some members of the family. Roger is the NFL commissioner, which I guess is the top Executive position in the league. As I read farther into the article, I was impressed to read that a year ago Goodell voluntarily took a cut of 20-25% in his salary and that other league executives had frozen their salaries for 2009. They did all that at a point where they cut 169 jobs, which amounted to 15% of the work force. So far so good.
Just how much did Roger Goodell make last year? The next appalling sentence told me: His tax return showed $9,759,000, of which $2.9 million was salary and $6.55 million was bonus and incentive compensation. Really? I guess he could probably have afforded the cut he took. I couldn't help wondering if he and the other league executives couldn't have taken cuts large enough to cover the payroll of the 169 people they fired. But isn't that too socialist of me?
As one who never made more than $63,000 for a 50-60 hour work week, I struggle with the concept that running a football league should bring a person $2.9 million in salary, never mind the huge bonus. though I suppose his salary needs to be competitive with the ridiculous salaries that the players get paid to go out and try to damage their brains. Somehow, I think the discrepancy between the salaries of teachers (and principals) and football players and league executives says a lot about our society. And it isn't good.
I don't always read the Boston Globe Sports section, but because I'm interested in the coverage of the Winter Olympics, and the start of Spring Training for the Sox, I read it yesterday. The article at the top of page 1 yesterday was about the deadly luge crash. The second sentence just made me shake my head, and wonder if the Globe even employs copy editors any more, not to mention educated writers. Here's the sentence: "News of the city sent shock waves threw this city . . . . " Really? Not "through?" Somewhere, Shira Springer's high school English teacher has just turned over in her grave.
Page 2: The headline "Goodell gets five-year deal" catches my eye. The Goodell family is connected to Chautauqua, and I had met some members of the family. Roger is the NFL commissioner, which I guess is the top Executive position in the league. As I read farther into the article, I was impressed to read that a year ago Goodell voluntarily took a cut of 20-25% in his salary and that other league executives had frozen their salaries for 2009. They did all that at a point where they cut 169 jobs, which amounted to 15% of the work force. So far so good.
Just how much did Roger Goodell make last year? The next appalling sentence told me: His tax return showed $9,759,000, of which $2.9 million was salary and $6.55 million was bonus and incentive compensation. Really? I guess he could probably have afforded the cut he took. I couldn't help wondering if he and the other league executives couldn't have taken cuts large enough to cover the payroll of the 169 people they fired. But isn't that too socialist of me?
As one who never made more than $63,000 for a 50-60 hour work week, I struggle with the concept that running a football league should bring a person $2.9 million in salary, never mind the huge bonus. though I suppose his salary needs to be competitive with the ridiculous salaries that the players get paid to go out and try to damage their brains. Somehow, I think the discrepancy between the salaries of teachers (and principals) and football players and league executives says a lot about our society. And it isn't good.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Tempest in a Teapot
I have been uncharacteristically silent on political matters, and what better time to break that silence than while two groups of men are bashing their brains out on the football field???
This won't take me too long: I hope Sarah Palin runs for President. She might even make a strong ticket with Scott Brown as her running mate. Seriously. She has time to read a few magazines, write another book or two and study the globe so that she can identify places like Iran and Afghanistan and their proximity to Alaska, and I'm sure she has already learned a lot from watching tapes of her interviews with Katie Couric. We could very well expect to see an all-new Palin by 2012. Maybe even a new hair-don't.
I say you go girl. I hope you attract every wing-nut in the Tea Party movement and a few right-wing, anti-choice Democrats as well. I think the primary season in NH will be even more exciting than it was in 2008. Imagine the mainstream right wing Republicans' consternation as they try to run a campaign against Sarah in Wonderland. I'd say that potentially Barack Obama could sit back and watch the Elephants implode if the hockey mom enters the race. She could do for the Republicans what Ralph Nader, Eugene McCarthy and George McGovern have done for the Democrats on occasion. It might even be worth registering as a Republican, so I could cast my vote for SP in the NH "First-in-the-nation" primary.
Plus, just think of all the fodder for Tina Fey and SNL. It's definitely a win-win situation, don't you think?
This won't take me too long: I hope Sarah Palin runs for President. She might even make a strong ticket with Scott Brown as her running mate. Seriously. She has time to read a few magazines, write another book or two and study the globe so that she can identify places like Iran and Afghanistan and their proximity to Alaska, and I'm sure she has already learned a lot from watching tapes of her interviews with Katie Couric. We could very well expect to see an all-new Palin by 2012. Maybe even a new hair-don't.
I say you go girl. I hope you attract every wing-nut in the Tea Party movement and a few right-wing, anti-choice Democrats as well. I think the primary season in NH will be even more exciting than it was in 2008. Imagine the mainstream right wing Republicans' consternation as they try to run a campaign against Sarah in Wonderland. I'd say that potentially Barack Obama could sit back and watch the Elephants implode if the hockey mom enters the race. She could do for the Republicans what Ralph Nader, Eugene McCarthy and George McGovern have done for the Democrats on occasion. It might even be worth registering as a Republican, so I could cast my vote for SP in the NH "First-in-the-nation" primary.
Plus, just think of all the fodder for Tina Fey and SNL. It's definitely a win-win situation, don't you think?
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
You can never start too early
It does my heart good both as an English teacher and as a mom and grandmother, to see Ella already reading a book!! I don't think I need to say anything more about my beautiful granddaughter and her beautiful mom.
Render Unto Caesar That Which is Caesar's
And unto God, that which is God's. It's Sunday morning, and I am sitting at my kitchen table paying bills. I'm also sorting paperwork in preparation for doing income tax, and I'm setting up a ledger page on which to record my expenses for this month. (It's almost the middle of the month, but I don't care, I've kept all my receipts, and they are about to take over the kitchen table.) This verse from the Bible flits through my brain, and along with it, memories of my dad.
In my childhood, I would most definitely have been at Sunday School, followed by sitting through church. My father would be singing in the choir, and frequently reading the New or Old Testament lesson and occasionally preaching the sermon. It may seem like a great leap to go from bill-paying to thinking about church and my dad, but somewhere in between, I was thinking about how the previous Sunday I had been in church with Todd, Sarah and Ella, listening to Ben preach the sermon. So my brain is putting all this together and thinking how odd it is to be dealing with my finances on Sunday, but truthfully, it's often the day that I pay bills and make sure my checkbook is up to date, and these days, it's a rare occasion to be in church.
So in the process of ruminating (what a great word!!) over this mishmash of ideas, I also recall a sermon my dad gave in the Laconia UCC church when I was a grown-up, and had travelled down from Littleton to hear him preach. His sermon focused on world hunger, and he was, i believe, helping the church conference carry out a massive campaign to raise money to go toward alleviating world hunger. His prop for the sermon was, appropriately, a brown grocery bag from the I.G.A. which was the market where he and my mom shopped. I don't recall the specifics of the sermon, but according to dad on that morning, those initials stood for "In God's Arms." I think the gist of it was that we were all "In God's Arms," and we all needed to help the less fortunate fill their grocery bags by making a generous contribution to the offering plate.
I further thought of how proud dad would have been to sit and listen to Ben preach, and how he would have grilled him afterward and probably would have made some suggestions for things he might have done differently. Dad was like that. It usually seemed to me that whatever I had just done (given a speech, performed in play, etc.) it was never quite good enough, and dad had some "suggestions" to make. Oh well, I'd rather not go there in this blog entry.
All of this is also connected to dad in that he and my mom kept track on a ledger pad of every penny they spent, for all the years they lived in NH until they moved to Langdon Place, when dad was no longer capable of handling the finances. I have resisted doing that religiously, and only did it once (under coercion from dad) when I divorced Bob Whitten and wasn't sure I was going to have enough money to pay all the bills. I did have enough money, and after a few months, I stopped recording. This year I'm taking it up again (probably for a short time) only to track where I spend money, so I can more accurately craft a budget for myself. I found such mundane lists among my great grandmother's letters, and I know it's been a family tradition, therefore, from the 1860s to the present. And, I know that the effect of writing down every cent you spend is to curtail your spending. You have to face yourself when you write down what you spent and what you spent it on. Carrying out this record-keeping will, I hope, help me to render unto Caesar, that which is Caesar's and render unto God, that which is God's. No matter what I discover, I am reassured by my long ago memory of my dad, that I will be able to continue to fill my grocery bags, because I am "In God's Arms," which is where, I am sure, he is now as well.
In my childhood, I would most definitely have been at Sunday School, followed by sitting through church. My father would be singing in the choir, and frequently reading the New or Old Testament lesson and occasionally preaching the sermon. It may seem like a great leap to go from bill-paying to thinking about church and my dad, but somewhere in between, I was thinking about how the previous Sunday I had been in church with Todd, Sarah and Ella, listening to Ben preach the sermon. So my brain is putting all this together and thinking how odd it is to be dealing with my finances on Sunday, but truthfully, it's often the day that I pay bills and make sure my checkbook is up to date, and these days, it's a rare occasion to be in church.
So in the process of ruminating (what a great word!!) over this mishmash of ideas, I also recall a sermon my dad gave in the Laconia UCC church when I was a grown-up, and had travelled down from Littleton to hear him preach. His sermon focused on world hunger, and he was, i believe, helping the church conference carry out a massive campaign to raise money to go toward alleviating world hunger. His prop for the sermon was, appropriately, a brown grocery bag from the I.G.A. which was the market where he and my mom shopped. I don't recall the specifics of the sermon, but according to dad on that morning, those initials stood for "In God's Arms." I think the gist of it was that we were all "In God's Arms," and we all needed to help the less fortunate fill their grocery bags by making a generous contribution to the offering plate.
I further thought of how proud dad would have been to sit and listen to Ben preach, and how he would have grilled him afterward and probably would have made some suggestions for things he might have done differently. Dad was like that. It usually seemed to me that whatever I had just done (given a speech, performed in play, etc.) it was never quite good enough, and dad had some "suggestions" to make. Oh well, I'd rather not go there in this blog entry.
All of this is also connected to dad in that he and my mom kept track on a ledger pad of every penny they spent, for all the years they lived in NH until they moved to Langdon Place, when dad was no longer capable of handling the finances. I have resisted doing that religiously, and only did it once (under coercion from dad) when I divorced Bob Whitten and wasn't sure I was going to have enough money to pay all the bills. I did have enough money, and after a few months, I stopped recording. This year I'm taking it up again (probably for a short time) only to track where I spend money, so I can more accurately craft a budget for myself. I found such mundane lists among my great grandmother's letters, and I know it's been a family tradition, therefore, from the 1860s to the present. And, I know that the effect of writing down every cent you spend is to curtail your spending. You have to face yourself when you write down what you spent and what you spent it on. Carrying out this record-keeping will, I hope, help me to render unto Caesar, that which is Caesar's and render unto God, that which is God's. No matter what I discover, I am reassured by my long ago memory of my dad, that I will be able to continue to fill my grocery bags, because I am "In God's Arms," which is where, I am sure, he is now as well.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Not being able to see the forest for the trees
I know I am way too close to my mother all the time, and therefore don't have much perspective on her any more. I was reminded of that quite sharply on Tuesday, when I drove her to the Hematology Clinic to get her blood chemistry checked and find out if she needed a shot to build red blood cells. My whole focus that day was in trying to trump the clinic modus operandi so that we could get in and get out and I could start driving north for an Arts Alliance Board meeting.
The good news was that the whole appointment only took 2 hours for me from start to finish, and that is a new record. I now know enough to demand to see the doctor the moment we have blood results that I know mean that mom doesn't need a shot. Actually, I now know that I can ask for the blood results so that I can ask for the doctor to interrupt his rounds to patients and stop in to see us. Before I knew these things, our trips there sometimes took 4 hours. Not fun for me and exhausting for mom.
To my main point: I was drawn up short, when the nurse had asked mom a whole bunch of questions, many of which I had to answer, and then the nurse said to mom "Do you have any advice for us?" Mom was clearly confused by the question, so she followed up by saying: "I mean, how did you get to be 94 years old and still look so beautiful?" Mom just beamed, and said she didn't know if she was beautiful, but she just had lived a good life, or words to that effect. She giggled too. I realized how I don't often think of mom in that way, and that was sort of sad for me to realize that.
Leaving the clinic, mom thought it was fun to be pushed in her wheelchair across the street and into the parking garage, and expressed her delight at being outside. A simple pleasure that I take for granted, but which has become a rarity for her, especially now that we're into serious winter.
My next moment of epiphany came after I had gotten mom safely back in her chair at Langdon Place. As I approached the 3rd floor elevator to leave, one of the men on the floor was sitting looking out the window into the parking lot. He is not as talkative as some others, but he turned to me and said, "Is that your mother you just brought in?" I said, "Yes." He said, "She has a Mona Lisa smile. I've never seen such a beautiful smile." "Yes, she does," I said, thinking about how mostly I wonder if she's brushed her teeth!
So, all in all, it was a successful clinic visit (her blood numbers were good), and a good reminder to me to take a few steps back every now and then, and appreciate my mother.
The good news was that the whole appointment only took 2 hours for me from start to finish, and that is a new record. I now know enough to demand to see the doctor the moment we have blood results that I know mean that mom doesn't need a shot. Actually, I now know that I can ask for the blood results so that I can ask for the doctor to interrupt his rounds to patients and stop in to see us. Before I knew these things, our trips there sometimes took 4 hours. Not fun for me and exhausting for mom.
To my main point: I was drawn up short, when the nurse had asked mom a whole bunch of questions, many of which I had to answer, and then the nurse said to mom "Do you have any advice for us?" Mom was clearly confused by the question, so she followed up by saying: "I mean, how did you get to be 94 years old and still look so beautiful?" Mom just beamed, and said she didn't know if she was beautiful, but she just had lived a good life, or words to that effect. She giggled too. I realized how I don't often think of mom in that way, and that was sort of sad for me to realize that.
Leaving the clinic, mom thought it was fun to be pushed in her wheelchair across the street and into the parking garage, and expressed her delight at being outside. A simple pleasure that I take for granted, but which has become a rarity for her, especially now that we're into serious winter.
My next moment of epiphany came after I had gotten mom safely back in her chair at Langdon Place. As I approached the 3rd floor elevator to leave, one of the men on the floor was sitting looking out the window into the parking lot. He is not as talkative as some others, but he turned to me and said, "Is that your mother you just brought in?" I said, "Yes." He said, "She has a Mona Lisa smile. I've never seen such a beautiful smile." "Yes, she does," I said, thinking about how mostly I wonder if she's brushed her teeth!
So, all in all, it was a successful clinic visit (her blood numbers were good), and a good reminder to me to take a few steps back every now and then, and appreciate my mother.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)