Medication for all of us. . . .

July 25, 2011, 7.30 am


Sitting here waiting for the contractors to arrive.

Beginning another week of construction cacophony.

And our confinement to the kitchen.

Although. . .this week is going to be much cooler, which means instead of suffering from humidity inside, I can go outside and enjoy the nice weather.

Garden.

Anything, just to be outside and out of the kitchen.

I'm starting to feel like I live in a bachelor apartment, confined to one room, no where to escape.

And its not like I spend hours in the living room, sitting around, watching television, eating bon bons.

However, it's nice to know that if I wanted to, I could.

But not now.

Family communing is permitted only in the kitchen.

Although Keith has cable in his room, so I suppose, theoretically, we could all descend upon his room, throw ourselves on his bed and watch the CBC New Brunswick News and Coronation Street in his room.

He'd be thrilled.

I'm sure.






Always wanting to see something positive in anything, I will say that having the contractors early morning arrivals as part of our daily routine means that Stephen has to get into and out of bed at normal person times.

A welcome change from his, oh-its-only-noon-I-can-go-back-to-bed-for-a-bit routine.

Or the always frustrating coming-to-bed-at-4.30am-antics.

Yesterday was one of the rare days when both of us could have slept in.

Especially as I had been up half the night for no good reason.

Or at least not one that I could ascertain.

I did get up around 9.30 am knowing that the dogs were in danger of releasing their water works if I didn't get them outside.

Grudgingly, I crawled out of bed with the sole intention of taking them out, feeding them, grabbing a bowl of cereal to quiet my growling stomach, and then back to bed until I bloody well felt like getting up.

However, the Fates had other plans for me.

Or rather, Meredyth had other plans for me.

Sometimes they're one in the same.

No sooner had I sat down to tuck into my yummy bowl of fibre cereal with Balkan yogurt did I see Keith standing in front of me, phone in hand, looking apologetic.

Mum. It's Mer. She has to work at 11.15 and has no way to work.

Which, as an aside, is not entirely true.

She has two feet.

I looked at the clock.

10.00 am.

Tell her I'll be there at 11.00. And to be outside because I am not waiting.

At any point during that hour I could have gladly gone back to sleep.

But knowing how much Mer needs to work was enough incentive to push back the desire for slumber and keep me motivated enough to stay awake.

By the time I picked her up, drove her to the theaters, and returned home, there really wasn't much point in going back to bed as I was just going to have to get up to prepare for another afternoon outing with Mum and Stephen.

Although extra sleep is always welcome before these excursions, it just wasn't happening.






Mum announced, when we arrived at her room to take her our, that it may be best if we meandered through the mall.

Instead of outside, on the trails, in the sunshine.

Seems she wasn't feeling as perky as planned and wanted to ensure quick access to the bathroom should the need arise.

What was I going to do?

Say no.

We're going on the trails as already decided and your and your wonky waste management system can just suck it up.

I don't think so.

Just imagining the look on her face and what would come out of her mouth should I ever think that was something appropriate to say was enough to keep me in check.

Plus I would never say something like that even if I did think it.

All she needed to get back on track was Imodium, but the nurses wouldn't give it to her because it wasn't a part of her "standing" med orders.

Really.

Imodium.

It's not as if she was asking for Oxycontin, or a hit from a bong.

Imodium.

That's all she wanted.

So I did what any daughter would do for her mother, knowing she wasn't feeling up to snuff.

I asked Stephen to drive us to Shoppers Drug Mart.

Bought her Imodium, a bottle of water and made her take two pills to calm her irate insides.

What's the nursing home going to do?

Fish them back out?

I don't think so.

Complain?

Bring it on.

I have all sorts of house related frustrations I am more than willing to release if such an opportunity should arise.



9.00 am

The contractors just called.

They're not coming today.

Ask me how completely not thrilled I am about this.

Someone had better show up tomorrow and get. things. done.

Because I am not a patient woman when confined to the kitchen.




Title Lyric: Medication by Queens of the Stone Age