The Compromise

Well, crossing my fingers and toes was counterproductive yesterday. It always hinder my ability to walk or type. Anyway, 15 minutes into the shift where my mother’s new caregiver would shadow the existing one, I get a phone call asking me for my presence at her house. Sweet. Baby. Jesus. I already knew where this was headed.

When I arrived, I was greeted by a delightful woman that I instantly liked. She was warm and friendly, but my mother had a scowl on her face. After asking the two caregivers to step out of the room, my mother and I had a Mexican standoff. This new caregiver has excellent qualifications and, in fact, rival any of her previous ones. But, no, my mother must push the limits of my patience and give me the most inane reasons that she will not work. The reasons had nothing to do with the job at hand, but everything to do with her inability to accept change. She went as far as telling me that I can’t make her have a caregiver, which reminded me of my children when they were three. Anyway, for thirty minutes I was on the hamster wheel.

My first compromise was that she go into a nursing home. She agreed. I knew that was a big lie, but I went with my standard, “Great! I will call around today to various assisted living places, and have your house on the market by the end of the day”. To which she responded, “No, I don’t want to do that”. I felt like I was negotiating a hostage situation. And by hostage, I am referring to me. Anyway, she finally agreed to “try” this woman out and I, in turn, agreed that I would take her to her appointments until she grew comfortable with her. Christ. On. A. Cracker. Yesterday, I needed a lot more sentence enhancers and contemplated becoming a day drinker.

Her new caregiver texted me after her shift, telling me how much she enjoyed my mother and is looking forward to working with her. I stared at the text wondering if she was referring to someone else or maybe she took up day drinking. I decided to just take the message at face value.

My mother is not talking to me right now, which, I don’t look at as a bad thing. Meanwhile, I will put on my helmet and resume beating my head against the wall.

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