Thursday, April 5, 2012

No. I Am Not Stoned

I have been just this side of worthless today. I swear. I've just been tired or, as we sometimes say around here, "tiard."

I went to that appointment with my mother. She's been sleeping a lot lately. Well, ever since they put her on a little bit of Prozac to see if that would help with the headaches. It has helped. Tremendously. TREMENDOUSLY! and she just looks more relaxed and seems less anxious. The doctor there at the place where she lives is just Mr. Laid-Back. I have no idea if he's a good doctor or not but I sure do like him. He's nice to my mother and doesn't condescend to her. He flirts with her a little bit which she loves. One of the nurses who works there came and sat down by Mother when we were in the waiting area and pretty much just enfolded her in her arms and laid her head over on Mother's. Mother looked a bit alarmed, sitting there with this nurse three times her size draped over her like an afghan but she didn't say anything and tolerated it. This nurse is one I'd never met. She was just freaking jolly. She looked about twenty-three but according to her she has grown and almost-grown children. So she snuggled up to Mom and we talked awhile and then we saw the doctor. The social worker was there too. Now, in one of those situations which make me believe that yes, we do create our own reality and sometimes we just run out of ideas, the social worker for my mother is the same woman who was my friend Lynn's social worker.
This seems completely impossible to me but no, she really is.
She's sort of a hoot. But I like her and I think she gets things done. So she was there and the doctor and the social worker student volunteer guy who is the most serious young man I've ever met AND a student nurse. And me and mother all in that small room.
So the doctor talked to Mother about her sleepiness and I suggested that maybe she's just relaxed enough to get some damn rest now and the social worker agreed that being a little sleepy is a hell of a lot better than being in pain all the time and we all tossed that around and the doctor agreed and I suggested that Mother needs to swim because she loves to swim and always has and if you met her now, you'd think that she'd spent her entire life teaching swimming because she somehow infers that although I never knew her when she taught swimming so it's been at least fifty-seven years since she did teach anyone to swim because she certainly never taught me or my brothers as far as I know.

BUT, she does love to swim. And of course there's a beautiful pool and swimming facility at the place where she lives (I told you, they have everything and I'm not kidding, even a thrift store that's open three days a week and a new pub, too, but you have to bring your own booze) but she has resisted swimming there from the moment she moved in. I think, quite frankly, that the pool was the last point of her resistance to the move we forced her into last year from her little townhouse to the place she lives now. In her old place, the pool was just steps from her door and she loved that pool but she hasn't stuck so much as a toe in the pool at the new place saying she'd have to call someone and find out when she could swim and how would she get there and so forth, throwing barriers in the way to the last piece of goodness she thought she'd given up but hasn't really.
So the social worker told the social worker resident to figure out how to get Mother in the pool three times a week and he looked at her like, "What?" but she insisted he could do that and to "Make it concrete!" which I thought was funny because you know, the pool? Concrete?

So my work there was done as far as I could see after I took Mom back upstairs and made sure she got her lunch. She had told me that they didn't serve lunch that late although the nurse who had swallowed her up in her warm embrace had said just a few minutes before that they served until one. Mother insists that they get them in to that dining room and get them out in a big hurry, but I think it's sort of like a cruise and everyone just rushes in whenever the food arrives and eats and gets out, all of their own accord and sure enough, there was still food and someone to serve it and so Mother had her plate and another lady came in late and I left.

By then I was starving too and so I decided to go to the Mexican place that has a Goodwill book store right next to it and treat myself to a used book and some enchiladas which I did. I bought The Spirit Catches You And You Fall Down by Anne Fadiman and haven't some of y'all said you loved that book? Especially you, Elizabeth? By the time I'd finished my lunch I was into the book and it was just the most pleasant experience. But I was so tired that I barely made it through the rest of my errands and then I came home and put things away and it was raining that nice sort of rain that sounds like a shower in the next room is running and maybe someone you love is in it and is going to come and get in bed and snuggle with you, and I laid down and I went to sleep.

When I got up, Mr. Moon called to say he was on his way home and I answered the phone by saying, "Hello. This is your worthless wife."
Seriously. Worthless.

But I don't care. I'm just tired and that's okay. I walked four times this week and I've been pretty busy and some days you just don't have to break any records for accomplishments. I got the dishes washed and the laundry done and the shopping done and I took Mother to the doctor and I cleaned out the chicks' cage and I'll make us a good supper.

Have you noticed that I've been pretty darn chill ever since I got back from Mexico? Okay, sure, I've had my moments, but mostly, I've been, on the whole, a lot more laid back and mentally okay. Please remind me of this if I start getting all whack again and I'll just figure out how to get back to Mexico for a week to ten days and all will be well. Hell, whatever it takes to keep depression and anxiety at bay, right?
I'm sure Mr. Moon would agree with this. Just totally positive!

I'll tell you one more thing- I got a new broom yesterday. Getting a new broom for me is like a kid getting a new bicycle or, perhaps these days, a new telecommunications device, but whatever, it's so nice and springy and they only cost ten dollars. I should get a new broom twice a year! Think of the joy and increased cleaning ability!

It's the little things, people! Like raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens! Hell yah!
Something, something, something and warm woolen mittens!

I'm glad I could remind you of that.

You're welcome.

See you tomorrow when it'll be Good Friday. Maybe I'll go buy some new dishcloths. The wonders never cease, the joy never ends.

Yours truly...Ms. Moon


  1. I believe it's "doorbells and sleigh bells and warm woolen mittens." and now it is stuck in my head.

  2. Heehahahahahahahahhaeeeheheheeee.

    ps. WV: foryon rkingsl

  3. god, I loved that description of the rain sounding like someone you love in the shower...that's a sloppy paraphrase.... but you put it so beautifully!

    Today is holy Thursday, just thought I'd let you know.

    Your day sounded like a very good day to me, similar to mine without the nap, I could use a nap, hence the sloppy paraphrase and 6 spelling mistakes I've had to correct in this comment. Here's to tomorrow...a "good" Friday I hope it will be for all.

  4. Well, i love that we create our own reality thing. it inspires me to come up with some new ideas. and i worked with anne fadiman at life magazine back in the day and she was just the most incredibly dedicated reporter and gifted writer and student of the human species. that book started as a story she did while at life. sometimes i think i have lived a very boring life and then i remember bits and pieces of things long past and i have that feeling again that it happened to someone else. but it didnt. it was me. like you leading weight watchers meeetings and delivering babies and rebecca building plane engines and we are all these people inside of who we are right now.

    see. you got me going with that create our own reality thing. and yes, i absolutely come back and read your responses, but i do understand when you want to just receive the comment and let it be. there's not a single person here, though, who doesn't love a response from you. no pressure!

    sorry for writing a post in your comments box. i am going out to dinner now with three of my women friends, all of whom have children headed to college in the fall. we are going to congratulate ourselves and commiserate, so see you later, beautiful mary moon.

  5. Murrbeth- Ha! I'll never remember that.

    Madame King- I love it when you laugh.

    Liv- I liked that too. It was what it sounded and felt like. Holy Thursday. Maybe all that holiness wore my ass out.

    Angella- I sure hope that you and your ladies had some big fun. I need to do something like that. I'm glad you liked the post. I think you've had an AMAZING life and are still having one.
    Thank you for being part of my life. So much.

  6. I am glad your mom is feeling better. And I am glad she got a big hug because everyone needs to be touched and loved.

    I bought a broom last week. And a brand new garbage can and two great big blue bins for recycling. They made me happy. I remember when I was little and candy made me happy.

  7. Yes. That is an excellent book, a sort of primer for what happens when the western medical world collides with another culture. It's beautifully written, and it still makes my heart ache.

  8. You are SO not a worthless wife... There would be a lot less divorces if wives were more like you...
    Get that new broom... New brooms swipe well is what they say in Belgium...
    And you are NOT a worthless wife! Darn it! Someone has to say it out loud.

  9. You aren't worthless--hell, you work harder than most people I know. You deserve a day or many to chill.

    More Burke stuff at
    Glad that he has 19 years of sobriety.

  10. We all need a day to relax. Toss out the old broom twice a year, and think of all the germs and oldness from the house you are tossing when you get that new broom. It's worth that.

  11. O I loved that book, required reading for midwifery students and anyone who wants to be immersed in difference.

    XXX Beth

  12. Birdie- It was way more than a hug. But it was good.
    Yeah, me too on the candy.

    DTG- Love you, baby. Thanks again for the heads-up on the Beatles station.

    Elizabeth- Oh. Do I need any more heart-aching? I don't know.

    Photocat- I know I'm not really worthless. But I sure felt that way yesterday.

    Syd- Nineteen years is a long time. I have read every bit of the links you gave me and appreciate them very much. Thanks.

    messymimi- I know! You're right!

    beth coyote- I loved the very beginning with the description of how babies are born to their mothers in silence among the Hmong. Amazing.


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