Geriatric Hell is Back . . .

Alright, those of you who have been readers of this blog from the beginning have heard my rantings and ravings about geriatric hell.  Anyone who has ever been in that lovely gap, that limbo that exists between grandchildren, grown children and _________ elderly parents knows of what I speak.  I have vented (I hope) eloquently, about my 93 year old father in law, shared my feelings about my Dad, who is gone now and I who will miss forever and . . . my mom. . . Mom is 87 years old. She has never been easy . . .  in any definition of that word. All that aside, Dad loved her with all his heart and it is for him that we will always take care of her.  I thought somehow that it would be a good idea to invite Mom up for a few days.  I invite her on a regular basis but she doesn’t take me up on the offer very often. She has spent time here before but being away from home is not one of her favorite things.  I am watching my youngest grandson today and thought a day with the baby would do her soul good.  My daughter will bring her 7 and 4 year old for dinner so Mom will get time with 3 of her great-grandchildren.  Seeing the little guys was good bait.  She decided to come. I picked her yesterday afternoon. We got to my house and were there no more than 3 minutes and she had scarred the dogs. I have friendly dogs who like everyone.  They hide from her.  It was not quite five.  I started to work on dinner . . . next thing I know . . . she took her insulin! (Me) Mom! dinner isn’t ready. (Mom) Well, it’s 5, I eat at 5.  I then hurry up and get food on the table. Thank the Lord for microwaves! She’s not dying on my watch! Then it’s time to watch TV.  She wanted to watch something that she watches at home but couldn’t tell me the name of the show or the channel . . . I finally figured out that what she wanted was the Game Show Network.  My sister warned me about this. It’s the only thing she wants to watch.  We watched two hours of Family Feud! And I thought my father in law with 24/7 CNN was bad! Next she wanted to know what time I go to bed.  When I told her she looked as if she was going to have a heart attack.  OK, I’m a grown up . . . I stay up till after 11:00 . . . at least. She started making weird noises and whining. I asked her what was wrong and she said she was tired (about 8:50). I said, well, if your tired you can go to bed. She wanted to know when the dogs would go to bed.  I told her that they will go to bed when I do. The later they go to bed . . . God willing . . . the later they may sleep. She somehow thought that I should go to bed at 9 like she does. I don’t think so!  Well, I got her settled and promptly made a stiff drink.  I know that somewhere out there, Dad appreciates that we all take good care of Mom.  She will not be going home till Friday.  I may be wandering the streets talking to myself by then. If you find me, please have pity on this resident of geriatric hell.  The flames are toasting my touche. The alcohol is not dousing the fire!  All kidding aside, Geriatric Hell is not a bad place to be.  I’m 58 years old and until a few months ago I was lucky enough to have both parents.  Having them to care for is a privilege. I wouldn’t trade the time I had with my Dad for anything.  But . . . some of it . . . I just gotta share!

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One response to “Geriatric Hell is Back . . .

  1. I still have a few Vicodin left over from my last hip replacement. They are an excellent supplement to add to that “stiff drink” you mentioned. More Vicodin = less pain + not giving a shit, ergo chemically induced peace and happiness.

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