Every time I see my mother, she tells me that
it's an unusual day because she woke up feeling like she should be doing
something, but she doesn't know what and so her day is just off
somewhat. She doesn't realize that every day for her is like
that. She thinks it's just occasionally.
I hertook to Kaiser to get a TB test. She never did understand, despite countless explanations, where she was going or what she was going to do. But it went all right and we return on Friday to have the test read.
I hertook to Kaiser to get a TB test. She never did understand, despite countless explanations, where she was going or what she was going to do. But it went all right and we return on Friday to have the test read.
After the TB test, I decided we should go out
to lunch, so we went to IHOP, which is next door to Kaiser and has a parking
lot. I had forgotten that this was the first Monday of the month and
was the day when a lot of the retirees from Walt's office meet for lunch.
Walt wasn't there when we arrived, but one of his co-workers that I know was
(Walt arrived later).
The retirees sat at a table for 12 while my
mother and I sat at a booth nearby. I was glad that the retirees were
there because it gave us a new topic of conversation. "Is that YOUR
group?" "Don't you want to sit with them?" "Do they come here every day?"
and variations on those questions repeated over and over and over again
throughout the entire lunch. But it was fun to have something new to
repeat.
I had done her laundry last night and brought
it to her this morning, but there was no parking at or near Atria, so I left
it in the car while we were driving around. When we came back, I took
a cloth bag that was in the car and put her laundry (it was nothing but
underwear) in it, figuring the bag was small and lightweight and should not
be a problem for her to carry.
Except she couldn't figure out what the bag
was. Every time I told her it was her underwear, she was first
grateful because she was out and wondered how I had known that, and then she
would look again and ask if I was sure it wasn't my underwear.
The last time we chatted about the laundry was as she was getting out of the
car and asked me what was in the bag, When I told her it was her
laundry, she said "Well...if you say so..." I am not convinced that
the bag made it to her apartment, but I'll find out when she either calls me
to ask where all of her underwear is because she's out, or when I see her on
Friday for her TB test re-check.
Dear thing, she is exhausting, but I'm
getting much better at coping with her emotionally.
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