I’ve been struggling with the appropriateness of blogging about my 91-year-old mom’s fall.
Is it too personal? Too private? Too intrusive?
I got my answer this morning during her dawn phone call.
“Have you written about yesterday’s doctor’s appointment Kelly? I can’t find it.”
Ok. So not too intrusive then.
Thank you Mom. While I’ll spare everyone the pictorial splendour of your multicoloured goose egg and matching black eye I’ll briefly explain what happened and then update them on yesterday’s four-hour visit to the eye doc. I hope you enjoy the read.
The Fall
It happened in a blink. One minute she was standing, the next minute her foot shot out and she found herself scooting across the room before hitting her head on the sharp corner of a coffee table. Fortunately the phone was in her hand and she quickly called for nearby help. Only after a three-hour hospital visit did she think to phone and alert her family.
While there’s been multiple medical appointments ever since, I’ve been on call for simply one. Yesterday’s eye appointment. Of course, in true just typikel fashion, it was the one that has proven to be the absolute highlight of them all.
The Four Hour Eye Appointment
My spunky and unique nonagenarian mother and I start out true to form. We argue nonstop during the first half of the drive to the office.
The impatient patient: “You’re going the wrong way. 12th Ave is ever so much faster. Turn left now.”
The impatient daughter: “Really? Silly me. I’ve only driven this route 155 times in the past six months of my life on my way home…”
We’re stubbornly mute for the second half.
It isn’t until she is safely ensconced in the waiting room that she breaks the silence.
“Everyone here is old! Our eyes are all going at the same time!” Slight pause for an audible preen. “I’m the only one with a walker though.”
Yes within less than a week Mom has become a wheeled walker convert. Previously dismissing them as “something OLD people need” she is now touting their value. “Marvelous things. I feel so much more confident as they are so sturdy and easy to push.”
She’s even named it. Harvey. After a favourite book character.
Thirty minutes in we’re still waiting to see someone and she suddenly squeaks out in pain. Before I can respond she breaks out into a girlish giggle.
“It’s the heart monitor. I think the girl put it on wrong.”
Good lord. She’s talking about the 24 hour holter heart monitor that she had hooked up just hours earlier. What’s the problem with it? Has it undergone some sort of slippage? Before I can take a peek she slaps away my hand and pulls out the card she was given at the heart clinic.
“Ssh. Please. I must jot down my latest exertion.”
She dutifully pens in her recent saunter up to the counter to enquire about the whereabouts of the retinal surgeon, a fellow I highly suspect I used to party with back in my youth. He’s in surgery; should be out shortly.
At the one hour wait mark Gillian calls us in for a consult and eye exam. Thankfully Mom likes her instantly so we’re spared any awkward mentions of how she “comes from a medical family and doesn’t need to be talked down to thank you very much.”
There’s only one teensy hiccup. The fact that the eye chart is the same for both eyes.
“Oh can’t you give me a different one? I’ve memorised this one.” Of course she has.
The rest of the exam goes well as there is much talk of how young mom looks and how she is so much younger than Gillian’s eldest patient who rings in at 103. Mom positively sails out of the room.
Dr. I Think I Knew In My Youth is still in surgery a good hour and a half later when we’re called back into the examination room once again. His temporary stand in submits Mom to yet another exam.
This exam results in the necessity of an optical coherence tomography exam where pictures are taken. I’ll spare you the details of the subsequent one hour wait after that except to shower you with a highlight or two.
“I feel like a caged lion” Mom decrees as she whizzes about in the waiting room, walker and all. Somehow as my energy is noticeably flagging hers is jacking up. I’m reminded of doctor’s appointments when my children were little and the constant need for me to distract…
We begin to make friends with the several other waiting patients. Magazines are exchanged; articles discussed. Toronto’s mayor Rob Ford is a particular target. I can’t help but wonder if the old boy’s ears are burning.
There is a never-ending stream of disconcertingly loud hisses of “Is that him?” whenever a new male appears. The majority of these are obviously patients. In order to dampen her questions narrow her options I point out that Dr. I Think I Knew In My Youth used to run voraciously and is probably still fit and will be wearing a lab coat. Most of her potential candidates are elderly, heavy-set and in jeans.
Just after I plug the parking meter for the umpteenth time (I’ve stuffed in so many coins surely the city can consider lowering the 2015 taxes) we’re ushered into the office of Dr. I Think I Knew In My Youth. It is him. Mom counters his understandably preoccupied and rather terse “I need you to sit in that chair” with the unexpected “Do you run Dr?”
The exhausted and overworked doc snaps up his head. Within seconds the years fall away and hugs are exchanged. But most importantly the four-hour wait is suddenly inconsequential.
This isn’t the last of the appointments. We do a repeat performance tomorrow and several more are booked for next week. Will I do further blogging about my 91-year-old mom’s fall and the aftermath? It’s up to her. Stay tuned.
Enough about my blogging about my 91-year-old mom’s fall. I’m curious about you. If you blog are there subjects you consider off-limits? Or do you feel free to write about anything? Or better yet, is there a loved one who requires medical care in your life? Do you struggle with this or is it all easy sailing? If you’d care to share, I’d love to hear.
44 Responses
First things first – glad to hear that it seem as if your mom is doing great. They can be terribly resilient at times. As for who do I not blog about? Well, if my mother were still alive, she would have loved to be talked about. But since she’s watching over my shoulder from other realms now, it’s my husband. He is off limits. He’s made it clear that he doesn’t like it, and so I don’t. In fact, he wouldn’t even like me mentioning him here, so I’d better stop while he’s still playing outside. 🙂
Thanks Linda. Fingers crossed she’ll continue to improve. You are so right about them being resilient! As for not writing about your husband I completely understand. Even my two kids have asked me to always consult wih them first before I publish anything about them. I no longer post photos of them. And yes – I won’t tell your husband about your wee mention here …
Mom says, “That’s funny, it’s mostly all tree. She didn’t say the bathroom was filthy and tell her I loved it!” Thanks Kel and cheers to a good glass of something stronger than juice tonight. Wend
Hahaha! I forgot the fact that mom lambasted the apathetic desk clerk about the filthy bathroom! Please thank her for the reminder! Perhaps folks will read about it here in the comments! As for the juice comment: sadly I have nothing stronger in the house currently. Ah well. Next week.
Mostly all TRUE.
True. Yep – that’s what I thought.
Damn spellcheck. TRUE not TREE.
Damn spellcheck.
I can’t even imagine the possibilities (of humor) when accompanying an elderly person to the doctor. Or anywhere for that matter. The other night I was having dinner with my dad, who proceeded to tell the waiter that the coffee he’d had there at his last visit was, “very bitter, and the worst cup of coffee I’ve ever had in my life.”
I had to roll my eyes. Why do old people tell waiters stuff like that? OMG, I was so embarrassed. Like that waiter gives a rat’s patooka. LOL
Oh don’t get me started. Oh do. Have you ever had the delight of being on a public bus with your grandfather who, after organising a rousingly jolly round of “row, row, row your boat!” amongst a bunch of complete strangers, tells the one chap not joining in that he is “a sad little man?” Toe curlingly dreadful.
Love that fact that your Mum sees the humour in all these situations , and glad she is doing okay. You really don’t bounce as well at 91 ! You will have to tell me sometime, under another cover, who this is you used to party with !!
Thanks Jane. Looks like she won’t resume normal life for a bit yet. Fingers crossed she manages a bounce sooner rather than later!
Given that my blog is book and pop culture reviews, most family matters are off-topic. I generally will only mention them if it directly affects me. Other than that, I tend to stick with things they are already willing to share in public, like my brother’s triathlon adventures.
Thanks for your comments and visit. Triathloning is an admirable venture!
I am so happy that your mother seems to be in such good spirits after the nasty fall
my love and good wishes for her speedy recovery, and you look after yourself too!
Clara
Thank you so much Clara. I’ll pass on your kind wishes to Mom as well. She’ll be very touched.
Oh…so sorry to hear of Mom’s fall..that is such scary stuff. Glad to know she is doing well. I’ve had quite the ‘medical’ week myself. Spent 5hrs at the vet for what should have been an hour appointment….”they were running a bit behind”…
Tomorrow I’ll be heading to the ‘people’ hospital as my step father is having a bit of surgery on his neck. Hoping it is uneventful and smooth and hoping no one is running a bit behind!
Yikes Debbie that sounds rather similar … I do hope your people hospital visit goes smoothly and that they are running on time!
If I knew back when I started blogging what I know now I’d have given pseudonyms to my family members. So far I’ve not embarrassed anyone, but that’s one reason I don’t use my complete name in Blogland. (Although I’m pretty sure someone could connect the dots if they really wanted to.)
Here’s hoping your mom continues to recover. And, BTW, I LOVE her bright pink shoes!
Smart Kathy. Pseudonyms are really clever. I no longer use my kids’ names nor do I include their photos. Thank you for your kind wishes about Mom. Fingers crossed here that she continues to improve and YES – I’ll pass on your delight with her shoes. I love them too!
My mom lived with me the last seven years of her life, from age 89-96. God had the foresight to provide us with a cottage on our property so we weren’t in the same house.(Pause here to genuflect and praise Jesus) I was ever the dutiful daughter cooking her dinner and driving her to one appointment after another but mostly I fixed the TV after she had her way with the remote, which was at least one a day.
She was a stubborn Norwegian and refused to use a walker until the last 6 months of her life. Her worst fall was showing off for my visiting sisters about a year and a half before she died, refusing to use the ramp and stepping up to the curb while I parked the car. My sisters didn’t know better and let her do it. I watched in horror from the car as she tumbled backwards, my sisters utterly clueless as she went down. When I took her to the doctor (totally black, blue and purple from multiple rib fractures) and he asked how she fell she pointed to me and said, “She pushed me.” Big effing smile.
I shot up from my chair and said, “Jesus Christ, Mom!” She laughed (ever the joker), the doc laughed (because he knew better, thank God he knew better) and all the way home I told her that if one of her jokes backfired and I got arrested she would pay for my attorney. And I meant it.
I didn’t start my blog until after she died but I know she’d love everything I’ve written, mostly because she loved being the center of attention. As far as the rest of the family goes, I occasionally write about my husband, only good stuff and in general terms. I write about my kids once in awhile but nothing that would embarrass them. I also don’t use their names. They’re all bigger than me and I have to be careful…
Your mom sounds like she was an absolute corker. To say that you pushed her? Classic. Thank you so much for this lengthy, comforting comment. I can relate to it in so many ways. My son is my mom’s chief “remote fixer.” I can’t help but wonder why they have to make them so complicated today. She is constantly pressing the wrong button and her whole tv goes “pphht.” It’s difficult when my son is away over the winter. I think he’s guided her through the process by long distance more than once though.
This is Mom’s third fall. Thank God she’s taken to “Harvey” her walker. I honestly never thought she’d use one – yep – she’s also a stubborn gal.
Our moms sound so very similar – I bet they’d have gotten along like a house on fire.
As for keeping your kids names private – I salute you. Smart move. Also smart to keep things general regarding your husband. I no longer post photos of my kids. Not only are taller than me but they’d disown me …
This is so fantastic as a very dear friend’s going through this with her 94? yr old mum.. falls; the bain (sp) of the aging.. bless and well blogged dear Kelly
Thanks for stopping by and commenting Nonie. Lovely to hear from you. I hope your friend’s mom is ok. Falls really are horrid – at any age.
So funny that your mom asked why you hadn’t written about the story yet.
4 hours at the eye DR? I would have a freak out even if it was me by myself with my Nook – I have very little patience!!
Exactly Kim. That’s how I know she’s feeling a wee bit better – the fact that she asked why I hadn’t written about it yet. Yep – it was a loonnnnggg four hours. Especially with her hopping up and down and scooting over to ask “is he out of surgery yet?” It was particularly special when she asked the receptionist if she’d been forgotten. Uh no. Hard to forget the gal who keeps hounding the desk … Here’s hoping tomorrow’s eye visit goes a tad more quickly!
I too have a very independent Mum, who is also a reader of this blog so I will begin with a Hi Mum i am about to tell the story of how your broke you arm and did not call any of us. Yes my Mum had a fall and snapped her arm severely and promptly took herself to the hospital only to call her husband and four children many hours later. This is a recurrent and independent theme, where she lets us know of her illness and/or injury after she is well or taken care of. No chance to play nurse for my Mum.
Kelly as always love the stories about you gorgeous Mum. Has she found those purple pants yet?
Oh that is incredible Karen. She snaps her arm and takes herself off to the hospital? AND she phones you all many hours later? Wow. She and my mom could be sisters. Thank you for your kind words – I’ll let her know you think she’s gorgeous. She’ll be tickled pink. AND no – the purple pants remain elusive!
Hi Kelly,
Great story, as usual. Your mom sounds like she is doing great for 91, all things considered! I am not sure that I would do as well with falling and bumping MY head! Love it.
As for off-limit blogging topics, I do try not to talk about my husband and daughter too much. My daughter is 13 and very sensitive these days. No sense in adding any further issues. I only occasionally mention them. I also occasionally mention my parents and sisters and their families – for the same reason. When I do, I always try and write it so that they would not be upset with me if they read it.
Smart to write in a manner that doesn’t upset anyone Amy. Thanks for your comments and visit today!
Hi Kelly,
I am Karen Main’s “Independent Mum” and I love reading your blog. In particular I can relate to your Mum I just like to take care of the situation and not panic anyone. Please tell your Mum she is amazing. I also cared for my Mum for many years and the time she arrived home in a taxi from her club just as I pulled into the driveway from sports drop offs with the kids is a classic. She entered the house and promptly shut me out. As my house keys were inside I telephoned her to let me in . However Mum was a television addict and walked in turned her TV on full blast ( I forgot to mention she was hard of hearing. ) she did however eventually answer her phone but decided I was a telemarketer and after telling she was sick of these calls put the phone beside her chair connected not hanging up. I spent quite some time sitting in my car waiting for my daughter in law to rescue me. Mum was oblivious when I finally did get in. So as you see I plead genetic inheritance. Not much hope for Karen .
Hi Betty – thank you so much for popping by and leaving such a great comment. Don’t tell anyone but I’m a lot like you. Really dislike relying on others for help – much rather do it myself. Abhor panic! Your story about your mom made me laugh out loud! She put the phone beside her chair and didn’t hang up? Oh man! And having to sit out in the car awaiting the arrival of your daughter in law? Classic indeed. As for genetic inheritance well … Karen should be so lucky.
I took my kids to the eye doctor this week, but my visit was only two hours long. Glad your mother is on the mend! As far as off limits posts, it’s usually stuff about my kids that they don’t want me to share. And I keep my rants to a minimum – don’t want to burn any bridges!
No the burning of bridges is not a good idea! I’m off to the second eye appointment with my mom. Here’s hoping we also make the two hour mark.
Oh, how I loved this post. I think I might love your mother. It’s the sneakers and the sure hands.
My mother is now moving into a retirement community, which we’re thrilled with, but she chose Virginia over Massachusetts. She picked my sister over me. And even though my sister, my mother and I all agree that she would enjoy herself closer to me because we like each other better, moving to Virginia was the right choice for a thousand practical reasons. (Heart breaks, even as it feels relief.) But I was thinking, maybe I could have my mother guest-blog about the move? She dictates the post and I post it? Because I want to remember this part, and I’d love to remember it in her words.
Thank you Jennifer! Your observation about the “sneakers and sure hands” is spot on. As for your mom – I love your idea about having her guest blog. Think it’s brilliant. My heart goes out to you and her as she begins this new adventure and phase of her life. I vote “yes.”
Gosh!!
Sendinghealing vibes for your mom, Kelly
Hope she is doing fine!
Missed ya at the FTSF
Thanks for your kind words Ruchira. I’ll let Mom know. Thanks for the FTSF note too. I’ll try and bang one out asap. Can’t compromise on that! Especially as it’s our last for the summer…
Oh, Kelly I love to read about you and your mom. Last year my son got hit in the eyeball with a baseball. I’ll spare the gory details, but gee, I sure learned a lot about the eye last summer!
As he is about to embark on manhood (he turns 11 this week) I am definitely cognizant of the fact that he may not want me writing about him in the blogosphere. I’m approaching the topic very methodically. No I’m not. I just make the call each time something funny he does strikes me as a good post! 🙂
Thanks Katy. I am sitting here all a-shudder though as I conjure up images of your poor son. Oh that must have been quite something. At times like that don’t you just wish you could push the fast forward button and zoom forward to learn it all turns out well?
Happy Birthday to your little man! 11 is quite the milestone. I delight in telling my two they were lucky to have survived being raised by me. I know they delight in knowing I wasn’t blogging back in the days they were 11 … Looking forward to reading more of your posts. :)))
I love that your mom keeps up with the blog and wonders where her stories are! (I am also noting here that your mom’s tennis shoes are 100 times cooler than mine.) I absolutely love when you write about your mom. Your love for each other (and her spunk!) come through with every word. It’s one of my favorite bloggy things ever!
Eye injuries are just awful. I hope she has a full and speedy recovery. I detached my retina several years ago and it was a nightmare. –Lisa
Thank you. I couldn’t agree more about her shoes. She is on the hunt for a “more colourful pair.” I’ll let her know you love these ones!
Shuddering here on the detached retina concept. Cannot imagine the hell you went through. May it never, ever happen again.
I love that you blogged about this. My grandma is now 92 and has had enough falls lately that she has moved to an independent living facility. It was an agonizing decision, and my mom has felt as though she’s sending a child off to college, with all the accompanying anxiety but not much of the excitement or pride. 🙁 It’s been hard. I love reading the details of your “adventures,” though, and witnessing your mom’s spirit. It injects a not-very-funny-or-heartwarming situation with humor, relatability (that should be a word), and warmth. And yes, I often struggle, as the mother of two kids, with what is appropriate to write about and what has crossed a line. Still looking for the line!
Oh Stephanie I can so understand and relate. It is such an agonizing decision. You nailed it with the “all the accompanying anxiety but not much of the excitement or pride.” I hope she is nearby and you can visit often. Sending jumbo hugs.