The Day The Earth Stood Still

Monday night when darkness fell, we brought mom home.

We put mom in the backseat, she was confused because she always rides shotgun. Then I got in, right next to her, when she realized no one was sitting in the front seat with Paul, she looked like a deer caught in headlights. 

A thirty minute car ride must have been an eternity. I clearly and sternly told her what was off limits, I explained there was a new sheriff in town and all laws are to be adhered to; 

No more DUI’s; being, Discourteous Under the guise of Insanity.
No more terrorist threats of caregivers or their family. 

Black Tuesday, or the Day the Earth Stood Still, started early; 

“Mom, its eight o’clock time to get up.”
“No, I’ll get up later when I want to.”
“No more getting up at eleven, you will be getting up in the morning and exercising.”
“I’m not going to exercise; my doctor said I don’t need to exercise.”
“That was the doctor at Disneyland, your doctor at Kaiser said you need to walk for exercise, and I’m not going to discuss it anymore.”
“You’re a Gestapo.”
“Get used to it.” 
“Mom, you’ve been up for three hours, I need you to walk two or three times from your bedroom to the den.”
“I’ll walk later.”
“If you’re not up in fifteen minutes, I’m going to put your chair into the standing up position, so you’ll have to get up.” 
“Why are you being so mean?”
“It’s not that I’m being mean, you need to drink, eat and exercise, once you get your blood circulating you’ll feel better.”
“I’ll feel better when you leave.” 

Later that day; 

“Mom, its time for lunch.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I didn’t ask if you were hungry, I said its time for lunch.”
“I’m not going to eat, I’m not going to eat, I’m not going to eat.”
“Paul, bring me the video camera.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to video what we go through at every meal and show everyone how you behave.”

She ate everything.  

It didn’t go as smoothly as I wrote, I ran into a lot speed bumps, but ultimately each day got a little easier. She still tried to start arguments but instead of trying to reason with her, which would leave us both frustrated, a few times I would laugh and sing dumb songs, and believe it or not it worked; 

“Mom lets get everything ready for your shower.”
“I don’t need you to help me, Nancy go get my Depends, and a new nightgown.”
“Ok, I have everything you need.”
“Turn on the water, and regulate it, help me take off my nightgown and slippers, help me get into the shower.”
“Mom, let me help you, sometimes you miss washing areas that need to be washed.”
“I know how to shower; I don’t need your help.”
“Ok, just trying to help you out, forget  I asked.”
“Nancy, wrap a large towel around my back, get a little one for my body and feet, and then help me out.
“Ok, mom everything is done.”
“No, help me with my slippers and zip up my robe.”
“Mom, after helping you I need another shower, I’m sweating.”
“You don’t help me, you never help me, and you never do anything for me.”
“What, I do everything for you” and then I remembered this is how it starts, so I stopped and started singing.” 

“You never do anything for me, hee hee, hoo hoo.”
“You never do anything for me, hee hee, hoo hoo.”
“You never do anything for me, hee hee, hoo hoo, ha ha”
“Are you drunk?
“I don’t drink, hee hee,hoo hoo.” 

I couldn’t believe it by meeting her with laughter instead of frustration she stopped and walked away. So if all it takes is humor to avoid her constant need of arguing, I’m free, free at last. 

Hee hee, hoo hoo, ha ha.