Well, it could explode. Things seem to grow so larger than life in there that it’s a distinct possibility. I went in her bedroom to take her breakfast and she said, “Krissa, I wanted to ask you, when you emptied my trash can,” she gestured to it, ” did you find a fork in it?” I said no, was there a fork in it? With the obvious question being WHY was there a fork in it? She said, “Your comic husband! The other night when you went with Kessa to buy her a new dress I was eating my supper and dropped my fork so I rang the bell for John to get me another one. That crazy man, picked up the fork off the floor and threw it in the trash!”
At this point I need to point out that this description sounds EXACTLY like something John would do. He teases everybody and she is no exception.
So I said to H, “Well did he ever get it back out?” To which she replied, “NO! He didn’t and I told him, ‘John don’t throw the fork in the trash!’ and he said, ‘Why not? It’s dirty!’ and I said, ‘Because John, you have a dishwasher! You can just wash it!’ And I don’t think he ever got it out!”
I told her I’d call him and ask. Well, he got totally pissed at her and said something to the effect of “Oh for God’s sake! I didn’t throw the fork in the trash and I told her I didn’t! She had food all over the floor and I threw it in the trash! I never said anything about the fork being dirty! She never said anything about cleaning it or putting it in a dishwasher or anything to indicate she didn’t understand it was FOOD I WAS PUTTING IN THE TRASH!”
This is how stories grow and grow in her little head. And that is nothing, my friends, er, friend. (as readership is down, dismally.) Let me regale you with the twisted evil story of how she attempted to get me committed to an insane asylum. Ok, not really, but she pretty much wants me chained here with her and THAT’S THE SAME THING.
To start off with she had been telling John and I assume my sister-in-law, (who comes to visit an average of once a week for, usually two to four hours), that I was getting drunk every night when John was at work late. The truly astounding thing here is that JOHN is the one that has a, (as in ONE) drink when he comes in from work and she sees him drinking the same looking screwdriver every evening. I guess she thinks he has a real affinity for OJ. He told her repeatedly that NO, I wasn’t even drinking and she was wrong and she would purse her lips and shake her head and tell him that he was just taking up for me and he was refusing to see how bad it was and I had a drinking problem. I have to admit this made me so furious I couldn’t see straight. I didn’t want to confront her with it at first because it would be obvious that John had betrayed her trust and told me something that was told to him in confidence. I kinda went from that, to wanting SO BAD for him to tell her that he believed her and I was going to go into rehab, you know, for my DRINKING PROBLEM, so she was going to have to go to a nursing home for a while, till I got back and could take care of her again.
Anyway she did this from time to time with no apparent reason for doing it or not doing it. Could never figure it out. And then my mither came to see me and we had several projects going around the house. H, presumably, felt…left out? ignored? abandoned? not enough attention was heaped upon her? Keep in mind that she had the bell and when it was rung I was going and doing whatever she needed.
One evening she told John that my mom had been doing all the work and I was drinking the whole time she was here. Doing NOTHING! I guess the first thing that upset me was the fact that I WORKED MY ASS OFF. Secondly, my poor mom is 70 years old and could hardly do EVERYTHING we did. Thirdly, as you may or may not remember, my natural father was an alcoholic and my mother is a big time tea-totaler. If I was going to drink anywhere it would not have been with my mom here and while she was doing “all the work”. Once again John told her that was nuts and once again she didn’t believe him.
The Final Chapter of ridiculousness is when her old hospice nurse, Connie, came by and picked me up to go and eat down the road for a quick, early supper one evening when the girls were here to stay with H and get me the hell out of here. At least for a little while.
H takes her supper anywhere between 7:00 and 7:45. It is almost always at 7:00 and occasionally as late as 8:00. Well, her supper was already done and waiting in the fridge for me to warm up and serve and I knew this, but either of my teenage girls could easily have fed it to her. She KNOWS this. So we ate, drank ICED TEA, and came home. I walked in and picked up the phone as I headed for the kitchen to prepare her food. I called John and told him I was back and asked how his night was going. Told him I was fixing her plate and taking it to her. I hung up to do so. I found her very belligerent and in a very bad mood with me. This has never happened before, it’s usually attacks behind my back. So I asked her what was wrong and she said she was HUNGRY! It was 7:05. I acted like I didn’t know what the problem was and said, “Oh yeah, it’s 7:00. Time to eat! Just like always!” I gave her her food and drink and set everything up and left the room. Later, when I came in and was putting her to bed, she was pissy and I asked her what was the problem and she said, “Krissa, look! When you leave like that nobody here knows if you’re coming back!” I am still astounded by that statement. Of course “nobody here knows”, translates to “I don’t know”, but this really threw me. I told her of course I was coming back and I had never in my life left and not come back. She had her lips pursed and head shaking the whole time. I knew where this was all heading and what she was thinking. That I was out at a bar with her 65 year old hospice nurse getting drunk and I can’t rule out chasing men. Oh, and I would have to assume dancing topless. I mean wouldn’t you?
Well, sure enough, days later she told John that I had gone out “drinking” with Connie and came in very late and didn’t get her fed until very late and I was drunk and rough when I put her to bed. Well, this time John said that no it wasn’t late and he KNEW it wasn’t because I called him when I got home and I was fixing her supper when I called. She let that go and said I was drunk and he said no, I had simply gone to the Mexican restaurant down the road, eaten and come home. She was having none of it. Then when Millie came to visit she told her all about it, too.
This time I wanted a confrontation. I was cool to her for about 24 hours and she finally asked me if she had done something to offend me. I snapped the invite up and said “Yes!” I told her that I was tired of her lying to John and Millie about me and I resent her being so put off by me wanting to leave and do things occasionally with a friend. She said she was sorry for what she did and she was going to pray for forgiveness and started crying. I have to admit that it felt so good to just have it off my chest that forgiveness from me came very easily.
I still don’t go do things with friends very often, but it’s not and has never been because of her disapproval, I just don’t get the chance when there’s someone here to sit with her and there’s something for me to do at the same time. I know some day she is going to be gone and I will miss her when she is, but sometime I just wish I could get up and leave like everybody else can. When John is working crazy hours and is exhausted day after day when he comes home, 4 or 5 days can go by with me not going anywhere but to the mailbox and straight back. And that gets old. Older than H.
This is by far the longest post I have ever done and I am wondering if I should put it up since it is all bitchy and sooooo long. I guess I will and we will see if readership drops off to nothing…..AN EXPERIMENT!
6 comments
Comment by Susan on May 18, 2008 at 3:53 pm
I appreciate you! Come to my house and you can drink all you want! (I won’t tell a soul!)
Comment by Krissa on May 18, 2008 at 4:50 pm
It wouldn’t matter if you told anyone or not. Or even if I drank anything or not. Not if H gets a hold of a megaphone…
Comment by Tranny Head on May 18, 2008 at 9:16 pm
Dude – she’s gotta go to the home. You’re far more patient than I am – I’d be like “I’ll show YOU a drunkard!” and then sign her up for Shady Pines. She sounds like the mom in the Sopranos.
Comment by zoe on May 19, 2008 at 3:26 pm
your hospice nurse takes you out for drinking and topless dancing? i’m so freaking jealous. my son’s home health nurse only brings us extra blue pads 🙁
Comment by Krissa on May 19, 2008 at 3:41 pm
Oh honey. No. This will never do. You need to complain. You should at least be getting free diapers. Er, I did anyway. LOL. She really did turn into a good friend. H was on hospice for 2 years, and during that time Connie, her nurse, became a really good friend. When H “graduated” from hospice, Connie just continued to come around to visit us. For a while there in the beginning she was the only thing keeping me sane. I was so terrified of having this old lady’s life in my hands.
Contrary to popular belief, people refuse to die around me.
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