Exhausted

I am so totally drained.

Today, I was taking my mother to a medical appointment – and appointment that had been moved up 2 hours. I’d say that was why I was up and doing my morning rounds early, but in reality, I was just up and couldn’t get back to sleep. I can’t even blame the kittens on that one, because I woke them up trying to roll over. I had a least 3 of them on and against me, keeping warm. I have the window open just a bit for air circulation, but when we’re hitting 7C/45F (at least when I checked), it does get a bit chilly! I was also checking on my computer during the night, having left it on to upload the garden tour video I posted this morning.

I made sure to have a solid breakfast, though, which turned out to be a good thing, even though it was a couple of hours earlier than I usually have breakfast.

I got to my mother with adequate time for a short visit, then we headed out about an hour before her appointment. With the time it took to get her and her walker set up in the car, then the drive in, we got there about 10 minutes early for her appointment.

We ended up waiting about an hour before she was finally called in – and there were others who were already there waiting for the same doctor before us! They, too, had been called to have their appointments rescheduled, and were told to come in the same time my mother had been told, which was not the time I was told when I phoned to confirm!

So… yeah… Not a good start.

This doctor is new to us, with our previous doctor having moved to another clinic. My husband and I are seeing her on an interim basis for prescription refills, but my husband already got a letter from her stating she would not be accepting him as a patient. Which was a surprise, since we even talked about it during our appointments, saying we knew she was not accepting new patients. So it was a surprise for me when I brought my mom in, and she told my mother almost right away that she was accepting my mother as a patient!

So this was a follow up appointment to talk about some test results. My mother is still refusing to take the T3s because they are a “narcotic”, and when I mentioned that word being used was one reason my mother wouldn’t take it, and my mother mentioned reading about all the bad things that would happen if she took them (meaning the possible side effects listed), and so on. The doctor seemed quite amused that my mother wouldn’t take them because they are a “narcotic”, but didn’t try to reassure her or explain anything.

Which was basically how the entire appointment went.

Now, my mother is already not happy with this doctor. She’s female, she’s black and she has a strong accent. Unfortunately, she also speaks quickly, and tends to bowl over us when we tried to explain things. Even I was having a hard time understanding her. She seems nice enough; I’m sure I’d enjoy her company in a social setting, but as a doctor? Nope. I’m not happy with her, either.

In the end, my mother was given a new, short term prescription to try for a complaint she brought up, with instructions that included to go ahead and stop taking them if they made her feel too drowsy, or if they didn’t do the job, then given a requisition for a urine sample to get a culture done, which had not been part of her previous lab work.

Then the doctor abruptly left.

Okay, they were far behind, but usually there’s at least some sort of comment to let you know the appointment was over, even if it’s just a goodbye or some sort. It felt almost as if she were leaving in mid conversation.

No matter.

The lab is across the waiting room, so we went straight there. The lab’s waiting room was crowded, but there was a chair available for my mother while I handed over the requisition and got her medical card for them to confirm. The couple sitting next to her were sweet and got up so I could sit beside my mother.

My mother commented on how many people there were. She was clearly not happy and started talking about just going home. I totally understood the feeling but I told her, you only need to give a urine sample. All these other people are probably waiting to get blood work or X-rays or something. Yours is just in and out. It shouldn’t take long.

I then started talking to her about the new prescription and explaining what the doctor had said.

“You mean I have to buy more pills?”

Uhm… yes.

“I’m not buying them!”

I explained again what it was for, and she declared that it wasn’t much of a problem and she could live with it. She said she didn’t understand what the doctor was saying (my explaining it obviously meant nothing), so she wasn’t going to fill it. Knowing my mother, however, I know she would not have been saying the same thing if the doctor had been male. That’s more of a thing for her even over skin colour. Likewise, if my brother were the one explaining it to her instead of me, she would have been more willing to listen.

By then, we were both getting really tired, too.

Then she got called in and it was just as quick as I told her it would be. As we went to the car, though, I could really see how she was slowing down.

Normally, after her appointments, we would do things like go to a grocery store, or go to a restaurant for lunch. After a bit of indecision, my mother asked what restaurants were close to one of the two grocery stores in this town. I only know of one, that we’ve been to before, for sure. It’s a franchise she normally likes, and we went there the last time she had an appointment in this town.

No, she won’t go there anymore. Why? “You saw what people were there.”

*sigh*

I reminded her that the service was excellent and the food was great. Her response?

“I’m just to tired of brown people.”

*sigh*

I pointed out that this was not a very Christian thing, and the subject was dropped.

We were going to drive past one of the grocery stores, and she wanted if there was a restaurant near there. I could not remember seeing one, but drove into the parking lot anyhow. That’s when I could see the Subway, though getting to it involved going back onto the road and taking a different driveway, because of barricades between parking lots. The spaces closest to the doors were also barricaded, so we had to part fairly far away – no disabled parking at this place, even though the doors and building were accessible!

We went in and my mother went straight to a table, expecting to be served. I explained how it works to order at a Subway. Reading a menu on the wall was more than she could handle, though, and she started asking if they had soup. I couldn’t see that on the menu, nor could I see any over the counter, but my mother started shouting from her seat to the one guy behind the counter, asking if they had soup. They didn’t, so she suggested we leave.

Which was probably for the best. Ordering at a Subway would have been beyond her, anyhow. I would have had to make decisions and order for her, even at the best of times.

From there, she just wanted to go home.

When we parked at her place and I started getting her walker out, she started asking if there was something she was supposed to give me. I knew nothing of that, so she basically threw me $20 for gas and told me I could go home! She didn’t even want me to help her with the doors!

It’s not the first time she’s been this tired after an outing, and I really couldn’t hold it against her!

I, however, was getting pretty famished and seriously considered going to a restaurant before heading home, but in the end, I was just too tired. I pulled over long enough to message the family and update them a bit, then headed home myself.

Thankfully, there was food at home that just needed heating up, so I got to eat right away. Then I updated my husband with more of how things went before finally going into my office/bedroom and indulging in some kitten therapy.

Ghosty really, really loves licking noses.

When I’m out of the room, though, I’m going to have to find a way to protect my keyboard. When I got to my computer, I found the task manager and calculator open. Neither of which have short cuts on my keyboard!

It’s past 5pm right now, and I’d love to just go for a nap right now, but that would really mess my up for the night!

A day out with my mother is tiring enough on my own, but this doctor’s visit was even more exhausting than usual.

I just need to decompress for a while. I’d love to get outside and get some work done in these awesome, cooler temperatures, but the days are getting a lot shorter now, and the jobs I need to work on require more light than I’ll have for very long. Which gets very frustrating, considering how many things have been distracting me away from them.

Ah, well. The world isn’t going to end if they get delayed a bit longer, again.

The Re-Farmer

(too tired to hunt for typos. My apologies for the ones I’m sure are all over this post!)

The good, the bad, the “someone just shoot me now”

What a day.

What a long day that started really well…

I had a very enthusiastic crowd waiting for me this morning. Including the new edition. I was even able to pet her a few times, though she kept moving away when I did.

But yes, I was able to confirm. Our new addition is a she.

I just hope that, wherever she came from, she’s already fixed.

In the end, I counted 19 cats this morning. Only Rosencrantz was missing. :-)

My morning rounds now include going to the very corner of the property to check on the sign. No vandalism! (yet?)

What I found interesting is that the squash tunnel was shaded. It is only this time of year that the shadows from the spruce grove reach this far. In the summer, the squash tunnel gets full sun, all day. The main garden area’s beds, meanwhile, are now in pretty much full shade all day. What a difference, time of year makes!

The transplanted mint is looking just fine; not at all droopy from being moved.

One of the empty blocks, however, seems to attracted a critter. Possibly a skunk digging for grubs. Whatever it was, it lost us some of the soil in those openings around the edges! I want to fill those with sand or gravel.

After I finish my rounds, I spend some time going over the trail cam files. We had a long list of things to work on outside, while it is still relatively warm in the afternoon. I was going to head out right after having lunch, then calling my mom to arrange to bring her to see the sign tomorrow.

She called me first.

She wanted to come today.

I told her I was thinking of tomorrow, because it’s such a warm day, and we have lots to do outside. She said the warm day was why she wanted to come today, because it would be harder for her when it was cooler. And I could spare an hour for her, couldn’t I?

Which would mean just driving her over to see the sign, taking some photos of her next to it, then driving her home. Was that what she was wanting to do?

Yes.

Okay.

So off I head to the town she lives in, and when I get there, she is cleaning out her purse and preparing a list of things she needs.

Since I’m there with her car, anyhow…

Okay, so we’ve added grocery shopping to the list. No worries.

We head back to the farm and as we come to our driveway, my Mom suggests we go straight to where the sign is from the road, not in the driveway. As we get closer, however, she suggested we keep going to look at the other quarter section, first. Just a drive by. This was something she had talked about wanting to go before, so I was expecting it. We did the drive, saw that it looks like the renter has moved his cows to that quarter, since there is a hay bale, salt blocks and a feeder set up near the gate. At the far end of the property is an intersection I can turn around at, then back we went to the sigh. I pulled over on the road, and there was thankfully a nice level spot she could go over with her walker. We got several pictures, and then back to the car.

Did she want to see what I did with the outhouse? I ask.

Oh, yes! was her enthusiastic reply.

I am such an idiot.

First, we drove over to the old workshop that is now completely filled with all my parents’ stuff we cleared out of the house. There was an old framed print she wanted. This was something else that had come up in past conversation, so we too the opportunity to grab that. Then we drove into the yard, and I backed up towards the outhouse.

My mother being ticked off that I did that, instead of parking further ahead, as usual, should have been my first warning.

To make it short, because I really don’t want to relive the experience, my mother decided to tour the inner yards, starting with the newly finished brick lined bed where the tomatoes were (she liked that, at least), but not until after making snide comments about the newly framed low beds where we have two types of garlic planted (so this is where you’re putting the garden now, is it? Uhm… no, Mom. It’s just the garlic).

I tried several times to redirect her to the outhouse, and she ignored me every time. As she worked her way around the yard, she made sure to give me a hard time about the garbage pile, which we need to hire someone to haul away for us (she didn’t have much to say when I pointed out this was garbage we found all around the yard that’s now in one place), acted surprised about the tire planters being moved, even though she’s been here since they were moved, and had just walked past the one that isn’t wrecked and could be used again), made sure to tell me to leave the spruce tree she planted at the chain link fence (I’s talked about transplanting it, before it gets so big it tears the fence apart, shortly after we moved out here, and she went ballistic on me, so I didn’t say anything this time). I commented on the second one that had been there dying, and she lectured me on how I should have watered it (it was killed by the cold, two winters ago), made numerous comments about the things I should have done around the yard (things I would have been doing, if she hadn’t asked me to bring her over), asked why I’d cut down the crab apple tree by the old compost, and when I told her it had died of diseased, lectured me about watering things again. Because, in her mind, if you water the trees, they won’t get disease. Then she mocked and laughed at me for building the high raised bed, the squash tunnel, the trellises and the low raised beds. No one does things like that, you see. They just plowed the whole thing.

Then she nagged me about various other things as she worked her way around the yard. When I thought she was finally going to the outhouse, she ended up going to the back door of the garage. She wanted to see the wood chipper.

That door leads to where her car is parked.

I tried to get her to go around, but she wrestled her walker through to door, so she could snoop in the garage. Which was have not even come close to cleaning up. I got the chipper out for her to see, and she really liked that, but then complained because there were still branch piles. Then she complained about how ugly they looked, and how ugly the post pounder my late brother built looked. I’d covered it with a tarp I’d found in the barn that was big enough, but after several years, the wind has torn it to shreds. We don’t have anything else big enough to protect it. But it looks ugly, and people can see it from the road, so it needs to be covered.

Eventually, we made our way back into the yard and…

She went to the car to leave.

By then, I’d opened the door to the outhouse, but hadn’t put the mat back because I wanted her to see how nice the floor looked, too.

She wouldn’t go near it. She just glanced over and said she could see it through the door. Then got into the car.

So, I put the mat back, closed up the outhouse, put her walker into the car, then we headed out.

Along the drive home, I tried to chat and mentioned the electric chainsaw we got. She mocked me about it, but in such a way that I didn’t understand her “joke” at all. Which then led to a whole slough of mockery.

I shouldn’t be using a chainsaw. I shouldn’t be doing men’s work. I need a man. Also, I’ve done nothing at the farm at all. Apparently, I’m a weak, useless, stupid woman who shouldn’t do actual work, except for the stuff that she used to do on the farm (while everything else magically did itself, apparently), which I am not doing right, because I haven’t done it yet, but she thinks I should have done it by now, or I’m not doing it the way she did, therefore I’m doing it wrong.

Oh, I forgot. At one point, when I told her that I’d lost a day of work by having to drive her around, she told me, what work? I don’t have cows to milk! What work am I doing? I don’t have any work.

Well, I called her on her behaviour, and pointed out that she shows no appreciation, gratitude or kindness. To which I got a sanctimonious, “yes, yes, get that off your chest” response. Because, clearly, I’m the one with the problem, and her cruelty and insults are neither cruel nor insulting.

*sigh*

Still, when we got back to her town, we were civil. I helped her with her grocery shopping, though she brought up getting an apple pie to have with tea when we got back to her place. I told her I didn’t have time to stop for tea, but she could get one if she wanted.

She didn’t.

Once at her place, I put her groceries away and she was going to give me some money for gas, which I do appreciate. She then brought out a bill (almost enough to cover the amount of gas spent in driving, but I do still appreciate it!) and told me, if I’d invited her inside for tea, I would have gotten more.

I told her, I didn’t realize that was an expectation.

By the time I left and put some gas in the tank, it was so late, I couldn’t even stop at the post office to pick up a package. My day was wasted. There was no time to even start anything when I got back, because I wouldn’t have enough time to finish before the light was gone.

I’m just so ticked off right now. After talking with my husband and telling him some of how it went, his response is, not to have her back here again. And at this point, I can’t disagree.

My mother is why we are living here. We came here to take care of the place for her. Now that the ownership has been transferred to my brother, I still try to respect her wishes as much as possible, and keep her informed of how things are going. In the end, though, she doesn’t own this place. My brother does. And he is very happy with what we are doing, and with our various plans for improving the place. He is our “landlord”. Not my mother. She has no actual say in how this place is run, and she certainly has no right to verbally abuse me.

I am lost past the stage where she can actually hurt me anymore, but my goodness, she can drain every bit of energy out of me. I feel more exhausted from a few hours with her – and it wasn’t even an unusually bad visit! – than I would have felt if I’d spend those same hours doing manual labour. Mental exhaustion is far more difficult to recover from than physical exhaustion. Still, to look at the bright side, at least there wasn’t a single racist rant or shouting about political issues she doesn’t understand, either.

Thank God my brother now owns this place. He and his wife more than make up for all the trouble my mother causes. They are such awesome people, and make it all worthwhile.

The Re-Farmer