Many of you know that my strong, beautiful and proud mother has been afflicted with severe Rheumatoid Arthritis for many years now. Well, just about a year and a half ago, she broke her leg and the healing process has been grueling and slow. But still, Drema is a fighter and she continues to work, play and boss everyone around as usual.
And if you know our family at all you know that even through tears, pain, sickness, frustration and anger we can laugh, tease and cuss each other out like it's nobody's business. So when Mom told me that she had been taken off of the RA meds because of the damage it may be starting to do to her internal organs and her vision, I suggested she drop her docs here in town and go to Cleveland clinic or Mayo clinic or SOMETHIng. When she refused I gave her what for.
"So you are just gonna sit here and WAIT for these people to figure out what is wrong with you? By the time they know how to fix you, you will be dead and then I'm REALLY gonna be pissed at you! Or worse, Oh my GOD Drema, if you go blind, so help me I will LEAVE YOU! I will move far, far away bc I can BARELY take care of you NOW! You are MEAN ENOUGH because you can't move! Can you IMAGINE what a TYRANT you will be if you can't SEE??! "
Mom cackled through the phone. "I guess I am pretty mean, huh? But ya'all do whatever I say so its not THAT bad!"
"Oh YES! Yes it IS, that bad Drema! You think I LIKE shoving you around in that wheel chair?! You think I WANT to haul your broken ass up and down, in and out of the car? No. No I do not. I want to WALK beside you and go shopping and have FUN, dammit I MISS my MOMMY!! But I WILL NOT be here if you go blind because you waited for some incompetent doctors to fix you! And HOLY CRAP! If HOLLY GOES BLIND TOO, THAT IS IT! I WILL STRAIGHT UP DISOWN ALLLL OF YOU AND MOVE TO CALIFORNIA! OR CANADA! At least healthcare is FREE up there and Gillian wont be stuck taking care of me when I am old and stubborn and crazy like you!" I bellowed, all the while laughing, into the phone. Drema was laughing so hard at me, she could barely breathe. She knows I ain't goin' anywhere.
It was then I realized that all the noise outside my office had quieted. I slowwwwlllyyyy peeked around the door and saw that Jennifer and Karrah, my Lincoln County Coworkers were wide-eyed and still, having heard everything I had just screecehd at my mother. The LOOK on their faces was priceless, as they were COMPELTELY unaware that was absolutely teasing Drema. Of coure I want her to take care of herself and I want her to get better but she is a big girl and can and will make her own desicions. Plus, that rotten ol broad is suuuper stubborn and the more you yell at her the deeper she digs into the ground. She is very much like a mule that way. And she knows it. Addressing Jennifer and Karrah I squeaked out a meek "I'm a good daughter?" to which my Mother Dearest said "Yes, you are baby. I love you. I will see you later." With that, she bossed me around, gave me her grocery list and we hung up.
But seriously you guys. If that lady goes blind, *shudder* I can't even, won't even finish that statement.
Then again, if she can't SEE what we are doingggg... how will she know if we have done it 'right' or at all? We can jsut say "yep, sure did. It looks jjjuuuussttt like you wanted it" I mean, how on earth would she knowwwww....? Hmmm.......
Work, home, kids, life, it's all a breeze!!!
Friday, October 14, 2011
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
The Lunchtime Scramble
I visited Ye Olde Adkins B&B for lunch today. I think a few of you are familiar with the establishment. Big two story house, corner lot. Kind of a mess inside, but it’s the good, lived-in kinda mess. Impeccable décor, friendly staff. The authentic, homey feeling once inside is nostalgic and priceless. Plus, I have an affinity for the place since the proprietors let me live there for 20+ years for free and then let me come BACK and live with a KID again for free, no questions asked. So yeah, I like it there. The lunch special was a simple egg salad sandwich with tomato soup. Yuummmm! And much to my delight I was treated to a Lunch Theatre which included an exclusive screening of a vintage episode of “The Smurfs” on DVD. Upon my departure I was given a box of Belgian chocolate truffles. Now THAT is what I call service!!
Since I am granted 45 whole minutes for lunch, I had meticulously calculated my return time with a margin error of 10 minutes. In order to avoid traffic, I took the back roads. I didn’t panic too awful much when I got stuck behind a train. Once it lumbered past, I had a full ten minutes to drive 5 miles. I did, however get a leeeetle antsy when I found myself behind a pick up truck with a bed full of long, leafy tree limbs going approximately 4.3 mph. I became even more antsy and A LOT cussy when my windshield started taking a beating from the loose leaves and other woodsy debris. The cussing reeeally got going when I realized that I was being assaulted with foliage and timber because the driver had failed to secure the loot at all. That was probably also the reason he was driving so slowly. When he turned off into a driveway I did my happy dance and hit the gas!! While on the main road, KNOWING that I was pushing it with the 3 minutes I had to clock back in, I gulped deep, relaxing breaths in attempt to calm and center myself.
Suddenly there was a very unsettling noise that seemed to surround and envelope me. It was a deep, primal rumble that shook my car and the road beneath. With an eerie detachedness, I noticed that my hands, already dead pale, were gripping the steering wheel with a such fierceness that the knuckles were a disturbing pink-purple shade. Painted red nails stabbed into the tender flesh of my palm. I was shocked when I realized the noise was coming from ME!
“NO NONONONOONNONOOOO!!!! NOT AGAAAAAAAAIIIIINNN-UHHHHHH!!! WHYYYYYYY-EEEEEEE??!!!” I was trapped yet again behind a super slow driver. The car was an ancient Buick, a cruise liner of a vehicle. The kind that was assembled circa 1970 and took up no less than 3.5 car lengths. This thing no doubt ran on pure diesel and was emitting toxins into the air at an alarming rate. As other cars were zipping past us, I realized that I was not going get out of this car’s time warp! It was as if I was being hauled in with a tractor beam! UUUUuuup the hills, arrrroooouuuund the curves (I’m not exaggerating. This IS WV, ya know) we went, at a speed that would make turtles laugh as they zoomed past. All the while I was hyperventilating, swearing and near-sobbing for this DEVIL DRIVER TO “HURRY THE BLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP UP, BLEEP BLEEP IT!!” This went on for another 2 years, 7 months and 18 days until FINALLY I could escape into the parking lot of my building. I glanced over at the driver to shoot him a dirty look. But then I melted. Behind the GIANT bicycle wheel of a steering wheel was the world’s oldest driver. The absolute cutest, sprightliest old dude you have ever seen. He was smartly dressed in a “Professor Indiana Jones” tweed suit coat (suede elbow pads!), with a hat and everything. A-frickkin-dorable. My road rage dissolved, I heaved a defeated sigh, zipped into a parking space and slumped my way into the office. Great. It took a whole 25 minutes to drive an incredibly short distance. Cranky and frustrated, I huffed my way thru the lobby, lamenting my rotten luck.
Then miracle of all miracles! The Starbucks Fairy had visited me while I was gone! She left a warm and soothing full-fat, perfectly sweetened Pumpkin Spice Latte on my desk. A heavenly beam of light shone upon it, complete with rainbows and sparkles. As I took my first glorious sip, I felt the tension form my catastrophic lunchtime drive just fade away. How? How did the Starbucks Fairy know that I needed her today? Because she’s awesome that way, that‘s how!! Thank you, Starbucks Fairy!!
So lesson learned. During my lunch break I’ll give myself 10 minutes to scarf down food, 20 minutes to drive back and allow 15 minutes for unforeseen occurrences such as acts of God, irresponsible or just really old drivers. Then again, would that surprise coffee treat have tasted as sweet had I not gotten ‘highlighted’ for signing in late from lunch? Probably not.
Well, I guess I’ll just chalk up this latest occurrence as just another adventure in the continuing saga of The Crazy Days of Summer!!
Since I am granted 45 whole minutes for lunch, I had meticulously calculated my return time with a margin error of 10 minutes. In order to avoid traffic, I took the back roads. I didn’t panic too awful much when I got stuck behind a train. Once it lumbered past, I had a full ten minutes to drive 5 miles. I did, however get a leeeetle antsy when I found myself behind a pick up truck with a bed full of long, leafy tree limbs going approximately 4.3 mph. I became even more antsy and A LOT cussy when my windshield started taking a beating from the loose leaves and other woodsy debris. The cussing reeeally got going when I realized that I was being assaulted with foliage and timber because the driver had failed to secure the loot at all. That was probably also the reason he was driving so slowly. When he turned off into a driveway I did my happy dance and hit the gas!! While on the main road, KNOWING that I was pushing it with the 3 minutes I had to clock back in, I gulped deep, relaxing breaths in attempt to calm and center myself.
Suddenly there was a very unsettling noise that seemed to surround and envelope me. It was a deep, primal rumble that shook my car and the road beneath. With an eerie detachedness, I noticed that my hands, already dead pale, were gripping the steering wheel with a such fierceness that the knuckles were a disturbing pink-purple shade. Painted red nails stabbed into the tender flesh of my palm. I was shocked when I realized the noise was coming from ME!
“NO NONONONOONNONOOOO!!!! NOT AGAAAAAAAAIIIIINNN-UHHHHHH!!! WHYYYYYYY-EEEEEEE??!!!” I was trapped yet again behind a super slow driver. The car was an ancient Buick, a cruise liner of a vehicle. The kind that was assembled circa 1970 and took up no less than 3.5 car lengths. This thing no doubt ran on pure diesel and was emitting toxins into the air at an alarming rate. As other cars were zipping past us, I realized that I was not going get out of this car’s time warp! It was as if I was being hauled in with a tractor beam! UUUUuuup the hills, arrrroooouuuund the curves (I’m not exaggerating. This IS WV, ya know) we went, at a speed that would make turtles laugh as they zoomed past. All the while I was hyperventilating, swearing and near-sobbing for this DEVIL DRIVER TO “HURRY THE BLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP UP, BLEEP BLEEP IT!!” This went on for another 2 years, 7 months and 18 days until FINALLY I could escape into the parking lot of my building. I glanced over at the driver to shoot him a dirty look. But then I melted. Behind the GIANT bicycle wheel of a steering wheel was the world’s oldest driver. The absolute cutest, sprightliest old dude you have ever seen. He was smartly dressed in a “Professor Indiana Jones” tweed suit coat (suede elbow pads!), with a hat and everything. A-frickkin-dorable. My road rage dissolved, I heaved a defeated sigh, zipped into a parking space and slumped my way into the office. Great. It took a whole 25 minutes to drive an incredibly short distance. Cranky and frustrated, I huffed my way thru the lobby, lamenting my rotten luck.
Then miracle of all miracles! The Starbucks Fairy had visited me while I was gone! She left a warm and soothing full-fat, perfectly sweetened Pumpkin Spice Latte on my desk. A heavenly beam of light shone upon it, complete with rainbows and sparkles. As I took my first glorious sip, I felt the tension form my catastrophic lunchtime drive just fade away. How? How did the Starbucks Fairy know that I needed her today? Because she’s awesome that way, that‘s how!! Thank you, Starbucks Fairy!!
So lesson learned. During my lunch break I’ll give myself 10 minutes to scarf down food, 20 minutes to drive back and allow 15 minutes for unforeseen occurrences such as acts of God, irresponsible or just really old drivers. Then again, would that surprise coffee treat have tasted as sweet had I not gotten ‘highlighted’ for signing in late from lunch? Probably not.
Well, I guess I’ll just chalk up this latest occurrence as just another adventure in the continuing saga of The Crazy Days of Summer!!
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