Okay: the plan for the day was to head over to my mother’s and take her for her MRI appointment.

With our New Year’s celebrations, I didn’t make it to midnight, and instead went to bed, so I did at least get some sleep – until I was awakened by a cat starting to hork right next to my head. How’s that for an alarm clock?

I intended to be on the road by 6am, so as to arrive at my mother’s place early. Sunrise, this time of year, is 8:30, so it was still full dark when I headed to the garage. I did meet my goal, though, and was on the road by 6.

I’m glad I did leave that early, because it took an extra 10 minutes to get to my mother’s. We’d had some snow last night – just enough to cover everything with a light, fluffy layer.

Which makes driving on already icy gravel roads even more slipper, so I was taking it slow.

When I got to the highway, I was playing “find the lane” for much of the trip, and doing 10-20km/h below the speed limit. It wasn’t icy for the most part – at least as far as I could tell. I just couldn’t see where the lanes were, and I often would reach a clear spot and find I was diving in the middle of the highway.

Thankfully, there was no traffic. I saw only 2 other vehicles besides me, the entire time.

When I got closer to my mother’s down, I drove into snowfall. Again, nothing major, but so reflective, even on low beams, that it got even harder to see. I was quite happy to get to my mother’s, and not looking forward to the drive to her appointment! I knew that certain sections of our route would not be good.

When I got to my mother’s apartment, her walker was gone. I knocked and the door was open, but I didn’t see her. Popping back into the hallway, I saw her down the hall. She had come out to meet me, but I happened to arrive just when she’d popped into the washroom. 😄

The walk back to her apartment was really hard on her, and she was panting like she’d been running a race by the time she came inside.

I told her that I’d want to leave right away, because of the road conditions. She started asking, what would they do if we came later? There’s something fishy about this appointment. They just want old people to die.

I asked her, do you want me to cancel? It was really last minute, but given the road conditions, combined with how much she was struggling, I wasn’t going to push her on going like I normally would. I can’t make that decision for her, though.

She hemmed and hawed so long, it was past time we should have been on the road, so cancelling it was.

Then I had to find the right number to call, because of course, there’s no number just for the hospital. The only number I could find was for the regional health center corporate office.

It took some doing, but I did eventually find a number for the diagnostic centre at the hospital and called. No one answered, of course, but I left a message about my mother and her appointment, the road conditions and that she was really struggling, so we would have to cancel. I left our numbers for them to call back, but don’t expect to hear from anyone. My mother has her regular doctor appointment on Monday, so a new request can be made then – this time, specifying an afternoon appointment!

That done, we settled in for a visit, because I was not going to head home until it was light out. We made some tea and were chatting when I heard a distinctive noise from the door behind me. Something had been slid under the door.

I went to get it and found a note that read, “Happy New Year, Old B***c”

My immediate thought was that it was our vandal again – he’s slipped many a vile note and letter under my mother’s door over the years – so I opened the door and went into the hallway, just in time to hear a door closing. My mother’s apartment is near one of the exits. I went far enough to see the doors (there is a tiny vestibule in between inner and outer doors), but by then, there was nothing to see, and I wasn’t about to leave my mother and run for the outside doors.

So I went back inside to my very curious mother and showed her the note. Then I documented it, taking a photo and sending messages to my siblings and family back home, describing what just happened (I am so glad I got into the habit of documenting everything, so many years ago. It has come in so handy), when I heard a strange noise in the hallway.

I looked through the peep hole and didn’t see anything, but when I opened the door, I found a woman walking down the hall and just reaching my mother’s door, in her housecoat and slippers. She saw me and started going on about how, my mother shouldn’t be doing this, it’s against regulations, it’s a fire hazard. It took me a moment to realize she was talking about my mother’s walker…

… which was down the hall, next to a neighbour’s door. That was the noise I’d heard.

The woman kept ranting, swearing and going on about regulations and fire hazards while I retrieved the walker, asking her what was going on (I think she was getting even more angry because she couldn’t get a rise out of me), and she told me she’d found my mother’s walker in the street. So I thanked her for bringing it in, and said my mother hadn’t done this, and that someone had just left a nasty note under my mother’s door. She basically said that she wasn’t surprised about the note because of my mother being how she is. I parked my mother’s walker where it belongs, under the little shelf by her door, and she ranted and swore at me some more, saying it didn’t belong there, while going back to her own apartment at the end of the hall.

I went back inside and was telling my mother what happened when I heard another noise at the door. I opened it and found my mother’s walker against it. The woman had come back and bashed it against the door. She demanded I take it inside and started saying more insulting things about my mother and me (I’m fat, so I must be just like my mother…) and swearing before going back into her apartment.

When I went back inside, my mother was just shaking her head. She could hear some of what her neighbour had been saying. Apparently, this behaviour is common with her.

She’d brought stuff up with public housing people before, and was told to call in and make a formal complaint. They can’t do anything if people don’t complain. So I found the number and tried calling them. I knew it would go to voice mail, since it’s New Year’s Day, but the mail boxes were full, and I couldn’t even leave a message. We will have to try again during regular office hourse.

So we talked about it some more and I documented this to my family as well.

My mother thinks the neighbour is the one who left the note, not our vandal. She says the use of the word b**** is very much her style, while she’s never heard our vandal say it. I’ve heard him use it, particularly directed at me, though not often, so she does have a point. I did hear the door closing when I went out, and I thought it was an outer door, but I suppose it’s possible I’d heard the door at the end of the hallway, which is even closer to the exit than my mother’s door.

So… that was fun.

My mother, meanwhile, was getting very tired, so she soon went to bed while I stayed a bit longer, waiting for it to get light before I left.

The drive home was much better, but I’m definitely glad we didn’t make the drive to the hospital for the MRI in the dark. I got home just in time to meet my daughter coming up to the gate to switch out the trail cam memory cards, as she started the morning rounds for me once it got light out.

So this whole day has turned out far stranger than expected. The note was bad enough, but for the neighbour to get all weird on me was really… something. The woman definitely has issues. My mother tells me there has been police involvement because of her, and her own son had shown up that time and basically told them, he was done with her. This has been going on since well before she moved into the building my mother is in.

Slight pause in writing this; I just got off the phone with my brother, and he agrees that the note must have been from this woman. The door I heard closing had to have been her own door, not the exit door I thought it was. I’m just so used to our vandal being the one doing this sort of thing, and there was no one to be seen at the time, I just made the assumption. If the neighbour hadn’t come out and started making noise and messing with my mother’s walker, I would never have had reason to think otherwise.

We really need to get my mother out of that place and into some sort of assisted living. For her own safety, as well as for her health needs!

As for me, I’m so very tired. I did get some sleep last night, but not much.

Time to see if I can squeeze in between the cats on my bed and get a nap in!

The Re-Farmer