This afternoon I spoke to the elder attorney for about forty-five minutes; there were many updates to discuss. I needed information and guidance, I continue to be overwhelmed. “Sans Souci,” he said, just remember that what you have done so far is Herculean! Just getting your mother here! Everything else is easy, really, it’s the implementation that  sometimes isn’t…”

Keep reminding me that I have the strength of a mythic Greek.

It has been a week since I put the previous post together. Last week continued to be enveloped in the fog of never-ending details to track, to-do-lists, chores and errands punctuated by ocular migraines. By the time the days were over I had no time or energy to sit down and think.

I tried to find a lawyer in Florida through my union who might handle a case I’d like to initiate against the assisted living facility my mother lived in and that her aide was bitten by a rat in. I was directed to an attorney in Florida who isn’t sure it is worth handling but I still  have to write up my case: I just don’t have time at this point.

I  was engaged in errands and shopping for my mother, delivering purchases, following up on her medical appointments, returning some purchases and exchanging others. By the time some of the days were over, it was well into the evening.  In addition, my car had to go in for servicing for an ongoing check-engine light issue that has been going on since I have the car. The part will be available tomorrow. In the “it’s always something,” category, my cool, brand new desk chair, began to show a split in the cushion of the arm. Life is tough … Staples is sending me a new arm–as soon as they get one in … maybe they can send me a new head. Mine is tired of thinking.

Then there was the fiasco with social security. I was at the social security office three times the previous week and have determined that each worker makes up his or her own rules. It is all about the luck of the draw: who you get at the window or on the phone. Though my mother and the aide, were able to achieve some goals on the phone after they made two calls, in order to be assigned my mother’s representative, we couldn’t get this done on the phone. Despite being told it could be by several people at the social security office. The only thing left to do was to wheel my mother over to the social security office (the parking is terrible) and take a number. She was mortified when she saw one hundred or more people sitting there. I can imagine what she was thinking: “here I just got over pneumonia and I have to put up with this.” Her comment was, “you should have called the supervisor of this place and notified him that I, your ninety-five year old mother was coming!” In other words, the queen has arrived and let’s get the show on the road.

What I did do was go over to the guard: “Hi, remember me? I was here three times last week. I was told three things by three people. As a result I was unable to be appointed my ninety-five year old mother’s rep. She’s over there.” He took the number ticket the machine had spit out for me and disappeared. A couple of minutes later he returned from the back and handed me a ticket with a much lower number. We still had to wait a half hour but it was bearable. We were called to the window of my favorite worker.

“Hi, remember me? You helped me last week, you got me an appointment with the woman in the back. I took care of my business but this is about my mother. I was told to come back with a bunch of forms completed and my mother’s ID. I was told to take them to the window. I was sent to the woman next to you. She refused to acknowledge the paperwork. She had told me I could do this over the phone. That didn’t work. I am back. This is the fourth time I am here, please help me.” After he rolled his eyes to the sky in response to my comment about his neighbor worker, he straightened everything out and hopefully it will remain that way.

Out we went. Within two minutes I had a blind spot and was on the way to a full-fledged ocular migraine. (So far there have been seven this month). The social security issue is important as I need to change the direct deposit of various funds to the new account to initiate applications for aid. A million details were linked and hinging on one another. The longer it takes to apply and get things going, the longer it will be to get help.

After that tour de force, as long as we were out and about we went to a medical supply store to try to get a replacement rollator and after all that, my mother had rejected everything and was getting cranky. It was hard for me to believe that only two weeks and a few days prior my mother had stepped off a plane and had returned to her homeland: New York City. Here she was walking like a turtle on a city street into the store. Her apparatus, an old  three-wheeled chrome pushy-thingy, was a lot more sturdy than what is made today. She just couldn’t think when faced with making a decision. She had had it and it was no use. She complained of fatigue, of vertigo, of not being well. Was she putting on an act? Was she seeking attention? Was she just done for the day?

I was done for the day.

I was being enveloped by a fog, suffering from brain-drain, feeling like I just wanted to run off and have no responsibility. It’s the way new parents sometimes feel. They know they are about to face something monumental, that it won’t be easy but it would be rewarding. Yet, when the time comes to look it all in the eye, it can be beyond overwhelming.

I was, indeed a new parent. My mother, despite all her with-it intelligence, had begun calling me, “Mom.”

Herculean? This is an ever-changing odyssey.

This series is linked: see “continued here.” Also, below the line there will be links for the previous post and the next.

The series starts here

continued here