The Thief of Lost Time

Chapter 15: Elderly Parents, Teenage Children

Rachel, as the nurse in the family, is concerned about the effect of Mom's medications on her awareness of the world around her. "I also think those drugs affect her balance and propensity to fall." When visiting the apartment today, she encourages my parents to see another doctor. "Start with a clean slate and see what he comes up with."

"Like a second opinion," I chime in, giving Rachel moral support.

Dad isn't convinced: "I don't want Mother having all those tests again and then have Madison fiddling with her medications. It could take weeks to figure out the correct dosage."

But isn't that the point? During this discussion, Mom sits on the couch tipping to her left, looking at us with half closed eyes. Does she have any idea what we're talking about?

On the way home, Rachel is angry. "Why are they so stubborn? I'll schedule the doctors. I'll drive them, for heaven's sakes. They'll have nothing to worry about." She sighs and looks out the window. With her nursing background, she is confident that there's always a solution to a medical problem. "I can't insist. They're not my parents. It's up to you and Leslie to convince them."

"But if they refuse to go..." I hesitate. "I can't kidnap my mother."

"Why not, if that's the only way to get her there? It's your mother's health after all. What's a little conflict when her life is at stake?"

Rachel can shovel the guilt on thick when she wants to. She knows I avoid conflict at all costs. I've stood up to my father on only rare occasions. When I wanted to study in Europe during my junior year, Dad was dismissive. "When I was in college, a girl came back from studying in Germany and couldn't stop talking about how wonderful Hitler was." I was determined to go despite what my father thought. "Dad, it's not the 1930s and I'm going to England. Do you have a problem with the Queen?" Luckily Mom acted as a go-between and resolved the crisis in my favor.

"I have enough problems with my own parents," Rachel continues, interrupting my memory. "My father won't have a home health aide in for three hours, for Heaven sakes!" Her father refused to let the home health aide into the apartment when she arrived on her first day. "My mother can barely give herself a bath, let alone help Dad in and out of the tub." From her voice, I can tell she's close to tears. She'll blame herself if anything happens to them.

I reach over and squeeze her hand. "You're doing the best you can."

"But they agreed to try having someone in. His behavior was unforgivable."

"Eventually they'll see that it's best for them."

"Yeah, after my father cracks his head on the tub. They're worse than raising two kids."

I laugh to cheer her up. "It was no cakewalk when Jon skipped an overnight at a friend's house and stayed with his girlfriend—"

"I was mortified when I called the mother and she said Jon wasn't there."

These are stories we've retold over the years, laughing at them now, although, at the time, there was nothing funny about them.

"You were ready to wring his neck—"

"For that stunt and for making me look like a bad mother. That's the thanks I get."

"And don't forget Jenn. Arrested at that party."

When Jenn called from the police station, I was late picking up the phone. The answering machine had already started recording her message.

"Dad. Dad. Turn off the machine."

She sounded desperate and I expected terrible news. "What happened?"

"Erase the message. I don't want Mom to hear it."