Sweet Sorrow

I don't remember what I was dreaming about, but I think it involved a beach and an umbrella drink. And a klaxon alarm. Oh, no, that's not the dream, that's my alarm clock. At seven o'clock. On a Saturday morning.

For those of you who do not know me, I am not a morning person. Seven AM is too early for me on a work day, but on a weekend, it's practically unconstitutional! Or it would be, if I could ever get the Supreme Court to hear the case.

But I had set the alarm so I could wake my mom in time to get to the class at the hospital by nine. I planned to leave at 8:15, and thought an hour and fifteen minutes was a quite reasonable amount of time for her to eat breakfast and put clothes on. I was not even considering the showering part, because going up the stairs to do that would tire her out for the whole day.

After waking her, I went back upstairs to do some web surfing - the only thing that was going to keep me up for the next hour. A few minutes later she called up, in a feeble waver "Hun? You can go back to bed..."

I questioned this instruction. "I don't feel good." She has actually used the reason to beg off a doctor's appointment in the past, so I should not be surprised she is reprising it for this class. But I am not having it. I knew with absolute certainty she was going to do this, and I was prepared. I treated her the way one would treat a child trying to get out of going to school. "Well, take some Tylenol and have your breakfast. After you are up and moving around, you will probably feel better. You are extra sore right now from lying still all night."

Oh, yeah, forgot to tell ya, she was injured last night when my son accidentally tripped her, injuring the arm she broke last year. I know somehow, that was my fault.

When 8:15 comes around, she is not ready. What the heck was she doing? "Oh, I did not know you wanted to leave this early." Well, only if we want to be there, y'know, ON TIME. Does she think my car possesses some kind of time warping device that lets me leave after 8:15 to take a 45 minute trip to a class that starts at 9? (OK, off topic, but that would be cool, right?) Alas, I do not, and I am puzzled at why she thinks she can leave whenever she wants and how she is surprised that we were leaving in time to get there before the class started.

So, now, I am criticized for rushing her and causing her to miss breakfast. Did I mention the class is on nutrition for newly diagnosed diabetics. Yeah, we'll be getting our money's worth out of this.

We get there, late. After about an hour, we take a break. The hospital has a snack bar nearby, so we amble by for some coffee and a bite. We've been listening to a nurse practitioner talk about insulin resistance, the effect of obesity of diabetes, and the long term prognosis for diabetics who don't control their blood sugar. Your foot will be amputated, you'll go blind, kidney dialysis. I chose an apple for my snack, and a cup of tea. I am thinking about how I want to meet my grandchildren one day, and I'd better not become the third family member with Type II diabetes. Mom, she gets a coffee and a blueberry muffin. A freakin' MUFFIN. Full of sugar, refined white flour (aka carbs), high fructose corn syrup, and butter! I figure maybe she honestly doesn't know. Maybe she really is THAT clueless.

"Uh, mom. Really, the muffin? Maybe a banana instead? Or an omelet?" She brushes me off. "Well, is it because you don't realize how bad it is for you? Right, you know that don't you?" She shuts down, will not engage with me. To this day I do not know if she did not realize what she was doing, or was just saying "Screw it, I don't care."