Week 2 Feb. 2009 – Mom’s Hangout Trail [2]

Part 2 – As the Radius Shrinks

The next places we visit are only seen from the safety of the car: Two blocks from Arby’s on the left is a prefab medical office park that used to be a cornfield. Mom points, “that’s where my doctor is,” and I nod, trying to stay awake in the overheated car. Wow, what an adventure to see the outside of some doctor’s office on a blustery winter’s day. About a half mile down the same street and on the right side of it is another indication to look and I’ll get a view of my mom’s dentist’s office in an even newer building. Oh, yippie, this afternoon is shaping up into a giant thrill-o-rama.

But the crème de la crème of the medical professionals that mom regularly visits is the place that houses loads and loads of ‘em – The Hospital. That four-story building is where mom spent several unhappy hours getting various medical ailments treated. Naturally, the hospital is in the midst of a massive remodeling/building project so more people like my mom will be able to undergo expensive procedures. “Oh, and I have another doctor back in there…a heart specialist”  she nods her head to the right as if I can figure out which medical module it is as the area for several blocks is blooming  with medical facilities or shiny new subdivisions. It had been farmland. I used to ride my bike down those quiet country roads in the warmer weather. She mentions something about an eye doctor but he’s actually in another region that is even closer to home…

The final stop on Mom’s Hangout Trail is the public library. I’m to meet her reference librarian friend and get my own library card. Once inside the library I’m the designated book returner and mom heads to the reference desk to discover that her friend has the day off. Disappointed, she goes to the new books section and soon complains that she can’t find anything “good” to read. A kid being wheeled in a stroller by an obese young mother captures mom’s attention while I stare in amazement at the igloo shaped parent in a red jacket that’s too small to close all the way.

Finally, she finds a couple of mysteries and a contemporary novel written by a recent college graduate looking suspiciously like chick lit, and some large type books that are deemed my responsibility to carry back to the car. She admitted that ever since resorting to wearing trifocals she prefers books with larger type. “I even read all the Harry Potter books,” she confesses.

To me, this is a depressing way to end the “jaunt” as it shows how narrow this once adventurous traveler has allowed her world to shrink. She’d traveled up the Norwegian coastline on a cruise ship and throughout most of Scandinavia. A few years later she flew down to Mazatlan, Mexico in the post Christmas season. In the 1990s she had taken the train to Denver and rented a car to see the Rockies. Now her existence was minimized to a 5-mile radius. Even the other side of town, that fancy east side, was deemed too far away. 

Week 2 Feb. 2009 – Mom’s Hangout Trail [1]

Part 1 – Toilets & Toyotas

In one of the photo albums are several pictures of my mom during the time she fantasized about being a model. Back in that era the term supermodel was nonexistent and payment for such a profession was decent but not astronomically high. Mom wasn’t the preferred height of 5’7” and she had the same problem I would later inherit – an inability to walk around in high heels for more than the length of a room.

In a sense mom had regressed to that point even though the thick soled and sturdy slush colored shoes she wears are capable of being nominated as the world’s ugliest shoes designed—ever. She admitted they were less than attractive but said: “They’re comfortable and I can just slip into them.” After seeing them in the laundry room which led to the garage, I decided the only way to deal with that sight is to avert my gaze.

But there are a lot of senior citizen accoutrements mom has acquired since moving into the Hampton Lake subdivision. The padded and raised toilet seat that soars about two feet off the throne is considered a vast improvement over just a regular padded seat. Another new illness she’s been diagnosed with is type 2 diabetes. Her disintegrating body needs that adult toilet seat cushion as are some plumbing problems with the stool stopping disease of hemorrhoids. Put bluntly, old age is really a pain in the ass.

Her bed is covered with about 14 pillows of various sizes. Since the higher than normal bed requires different sized sheets, I’m given the task of changing them as they are too hard for her handle -- so much pushing, pulling and especially tucking.

As we go for our first drive in her 2003 Toyota, it was an embarrassment getting into a car that’s the equivalent of those monstrous shoes—and a similar color. Couldn’t help noticing the big ol’ handicapped plaque dangling from her rearview mirror. God, everything about this vehicle shouts “old lady driver.” And it is made obvious the way she drives. “You don’t have to drive the speed limit, Lisa,” mom says as she concentrates on making a left turn out of the main entrance. We sat there for several minutes as it was a “busy” street. An oncoming car barely in the range of vision was deemed too close. Firmly in lecture mode, she continues, “Just because the sign reads 40 doesn’t mean you have to go 40. As long as I’m not obstructing traffic I can go 20…”

I felt like I could watch my nails grow before she finally made that left turn. In fact, I wonder if her turn signal would hold up much longer as she seems to like using it for long periods of time.

Our first stop on Mom’s Hangout Trail is Arby’s. That woman loves her Arby’s meals and the free coffee or whatever she gets due to her senior citizen discount. Me -- not a huge fan of the place. I rarely eat roast beef and when I do I always end up regretting it as I have to drink so much water to make up for the intense intake of sodium. I have some chicken something or other along with one of their tantalizing sounding sauces that ends up tasting like cheap salad dressing. I violated one of my mom’s rules of saving money, there were actually too many to remember, and that was I didn’t buy a meal but got 3 separate items. Yeah, had to try some of those over-seasoned fries which ended up being lukewarm. Mom was concerned about this problem and immediately suggests that I exchange them for hot fries. Mom seems to be on the verge of hauling herself up from the booth and doing it herself. Heck, she’s always returning or exchanging things. But I told her I liked ‘em like that and she just shrugs.