After a long weekend of celebrating, this chick was exhausted. It takes a lot of energy to be peppy and welcoming. While I loved every moment of it, I needed to refuel. That, of course, would have to wait as I was juggling several deadlines for multiple publications.
What I love about freelance writing is that I am no longer put in a box. For years, all I wrote about were homes, which was great, but now my repertoire has expanded and there is a whole lot more variety at my disposal. With that, comes a range of expedience since many of these assignments are thrown in at the final hour. Currently, I am saddled with the opportunity to produce some magic on a really big story that I am excited to write. (Shameless plug…..it will be in the December issue of TOPS Louisville along with my regular home piece – http://www.topslouisville.com).
When I get in the zone, I hardly move from my designated seat and the shrill of my phone scares the crap out of me. This happened yesterday and normally, I would ignore the call, but it was my mother. I am always waiting for the call where she has fallen and can’t get up. In a recent blog, I shared she won’t wear one of those Life Alert things insisting that “Alexa” will be able to call help for her. Sure, if she is in the same room, but “Alexa” probably won’t hear her from upstairs. Even in the same room, “Alexa” sometimes tells her “I can’t do that”, when she utters a command, which I think is hilarious. Sigh. I reluctantly answer hoping that it isn’t a long conversation.
“Allison, I have the nurse here from that place we get caregivers from and I want you to talk to her. She knows a really good place that provides doctors that do house calls.”
Okay, so about a month ago, I set her up with a place that provides healthcare house calls. She had been looking for an alternative, so I did the footwork, got her records transferred, and I thought that we had a winner. Then I remembered who we were dealing with in this particular scenario. She ended up finding fault with them, so we went back to square one. I undid all I did and vowed that we would never do that again. She wants change, but hates it. It is a wonder I am not in a padded cell.
“Mom, I really don’t have time to chat with her. Get the information and we will talk about it later. I am on deadline.”
I am on deadline, but it wasn’t yesterday. That line is used on her a lot because it gets her off the phone quicker. I know, I am going to burn in hell, but I am sure I will be in excellent company.
Later, when we chatted, I shared that we probably won’t move in that direction. I promised that I would take the information that the nurse provided and look into it, but reminded her of our last attempt at doing something different. Sometimes, I think I should simply record my spiel as I find myself repeating the same words for various scenarios.
The blessing is that I am not alone. There are many of us in the same situation dealing with aging parents. I am fortunate that my mother planned and having caregivers in her home is not a financial burden. Many are not that lucky and endure this without outside assistance. God was certainly good to me in this instance because orange is not my color.