This morning I took my mom to have a CAT scan of the chest and abdomen at Hoag Imaging Center. It took about 1 hour and 20 minutes to get there, plus the 30 minutes or so it took me to get to their house at 6:30 AM this morning.
When I got there, my dad was munching his toast and peanut butter, waiting for the bus to take him to the Center. I heard later that it never arrived because the Access people suddenly forgot the three months he has been traveling from the new place and went back to the old one. So the caregiver is taking him shopping today to look for new plants and then he will help put them into the ground.
The owner of the house, she tells me, is afraid of my father, and won't tell him he can't cut things down, but I told him that if I hear he has done it again, I will take away his tools. I know this would be tantamount to castration to him, so I take it very seriously, and I hope I never actually have to follow through. I gave away his old tools because they were old and too heavy to ship; my uncle advised me to, but my father never forgave me that error. He was in no shape at the time to be consulted.
My mom gave me a scare when I arrived this morning. The right side of her face was drooping, and again, as when she had a UTI a month or so ago, she could not walk, could not open her eyes, understood and paid no attention to anything going on around her. She had to be wheeled in a lightweight wheelchair because, in her words, "It's too hard to walk." Luckily, I managed it, but it was dicey for a while there, and it was painful too to force her to drink that disgusting berry flavored barium milkshake and to endure the needles, the machine, the cold breeze on her naked arms as the images were taken.
But it's over. And my father's appointment next Weds. is on again. I remembered he had that ultrasound after all. I'm not taking him though. The driver is; and she's taking my mom to the oncologist too. So until Sunday afternoon, after yoga, I am free. Then I will have to find some kind of restaurant to take them to. I guess there goes the rest of Passover because there is almost nothing at a restaurant I could eat, except maybe chicken and potatoes.
4 comments:
When you mentioned that wisteria a few days ago, I wondered about the owner =:O Hope that bus comes soon for a trip to the Center!
The owner is too scared to tell him to stop. I have scheduled a trip to the VA psychiatrist. This sort of manic behavior needs to be medicated.
Oh, dear, too bad that she's afraid of him... I hope all that gets better!
The owner is a guy. He is a sort of effete, passive lawyer from VA (UVA law school) who is rather new to the business. He's being led around by Pilipino women, including his wife, a dentist (whom I have never met and neither has anyone at the house), and several Pilipino caregivers.
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