Thursday, April 15, 2004
I'm delighted and relieved to report...
...that our planned trip to The Valley and back today is no longer necessary. MA was able to not only complete her taxes but file them and pay the amounts due online. For her first estimated federal payment I downloaded the form from the IRS online (don't happen to have the address, at the moment), filled it in, wrote the check and got it in the mail before 0800.
Although I was prepared for the trip and certain it would occur, when I observed my mother in bed, this morning, twisted in her usual "morning after FT" position, knowing that, for her, it was going to be a slow and uncomfortable day, my mind was racing with ideas on how to lessen what I was sure was going to be a very painful evening for her when we returned. As well, her congestion continues from the Easter trip. Although I know that our house in Mesa is not healthy for her anymore because of the mold and the dust from the house disintegrating around us, I'm becoming quickly convinced that neither is the general air there, since we didn't come within 20 miles of our house in Mesa this Easter. The sky looked blue enough, about half as blue as it was up here that day, but, you know, and I mention this to my mother every time we enter The Valley from Prescott, I can smell the city from the Route 74 exit. It is neither a pleasant nor unpleasant smell but it is a dusty desertindustrial city smell. I never notice it when I'm living there but I always notice it on approach from Prescott. Anyway, all I know is that despite the elevation and the "thinner" air, she breathes better up here and spends less time congested. I was dreading another day in the heart of The Valley at this time in her convalescence. Thanks to my mother's wondrous CPA, today is going to be a relatively easy day for my mother.
I'll plant roses this afternoon, encourage Mom to warm up in the sun and supervise my planting, allow her to sleep almost as much as I know she'll want to and spend the morning organizing some paper work.
My mother's CPA lost his mother last year on April 8th. We talked about that, some. He related to me that she succumbed to traveling leg clots, a condition he felt was obvious from the incredible leg pain she was having when she was released from her doctor's care prior to her death. "...the pain [in her legs] was so bad she said she'd rather die than endure it." Later in the conversation he divulged that, while he holds the medical community responsible for what to him is his mother's too early demise by about 5 years, neither it is his intention to sue. I know, I think, how he feels. Because non-alternative medical mismanagement is so common these days, well, it's hard to explain but, at least in my case, being a member of the species and of this particular culture with which I am not wholly displeased, I take a certain level of responsibility for the current predicament of institutional medicine upon my own shoulders. I am aware that this is primarily an emotional reaction which allows me to endure the complexity and confusion of negotiating the medical establishment on behalf of someone who is at the end of her life. It is a necessary reaction, though, that saves both my mother and me time and stress. Every time I alter administration of prescribed medicines, every time I refuse a procedure on her behalf, every time I look for alternatives to prescribed medications and procedures, I consciously, silently acknowledge the grave responsibility I'm taking on which includes directly affecting her mortality. In a sense, especially now, since having had my mother dismissed from a physician's care and single-handedly managing her through a health crisis anyway, this is how I take on responsibility for whatever a physician does to her. I'm fully aware, now, of how important it is for medical care to be voluntary. Every time we walk into a physician's office I consider that part of the responsibility for however that physician may treat or mistreat her lies with my decision to take her to see a physician. I am always aware that consciously recognizing and appropriating the responsibility to determine, with each health crisis, when non-alternative medical treatment is appropriate and when following my healing instincts about my mother down non-alternative paths is appropriate places me directly in the line of fire if a medical procedure or prescription fails my mother or, worse, harms her. It also, I consider, gives my mother one more chance to avoid such failures and harm. As long as she appears to be up to life and as long as I have the resources to advocate on behalf of her medical treatment I want to provide her with that added chance.
Yep, she's sleeping in today. Good.
Later.
Although I was prepared for the trip and certain it would occur, when I observed my mother in bed, this morning, twisted in her usual "morning after FT" position, knowing that, for her, it was going to be a slow and uncomfortable day, my mind was racing with ideas on how to lessen what I was sure was going to be a very painful evening for her when we returned. As well, her congestion continues from the Easter trip. Although I know that our house in Mesa is not healthy for her anymore because of the mold and the dust from the house disintegrating around us, I'm becoming quickly convinced that neither is the general air there, since we didn't come within 20 miles of our house in Mesa this Easter. The sky looked blue enough, about half as blue as it was up here that day, but, you know, and I mention this to my mother every time we enter The Valley from Prescott, I can smell the city from the Route 74 exit. It is neither a pleasant nor unpleasant smell but it is a dusty desertindustrial city smell. I never notice it when I'm living there but I always notice it on approach from Prescott. Anyway, all I know is that despite the elevation and the "thinner" air, she breathes better up here and spends less time congested. I was dreading another day in the heart of The Valley at this time in her convalescence. Thanks to my mother's wondrous CPA, today is going to be a relatively easy day for my mother.
I'll plant roses this afternoon, encourage Mom to warm up in the sun and supervise my planting, allow her to sleep almost as much as I know she'll want to and spend the morning organizing some paper work.
My mother's CPA lost his mother last year on April 8th. We talked about that, some. He related to me that she succumbed to traveling leg clots, a condition he felt was obvious from the incredible leg pain she was having when she was released from her doctor's care prior to her death. "...the pain [in her legs] was so bad she said she'd rather die than endure it." Later in the conversation he divulged that, while he holds the medical community responsible for what to him is his mother's too early demise by about 5 years, neither it is his intention to sue. I know, I think, how he feels. Because non-alternative medical mismanagement is so common these days, well, it's hard to explain but, at least in my case, being a member of the species and of this particular culture with which I am not wholly displeased, I take a certain level of responsibility for the current predicament of institutional medicine upon my own shoulders. I am aware that this is primarily an emotional reaction which allows me to endure the complexity and confusion of negotiating the medical establishment on behalf of someone who is at the end of her life. It is a necessary reaction, though, that saves both my mother and me time and stress. Every time I alter administration of prescribed medicines, every time I refuse a procedure on her behalf, every time I look for alternatives to prescribed medications and procedures, I consciously, silently acknowledge the grave responsibility I'm taking on which includes directly affecting her mortality. In a sense, especially now, since having had my mother dismissed from a physician's care and single-handedly managing her through a health crisis anyway, this is how I take on responsibility for whatever a physician does to her. I'm fully aware, now, of how important it is for medical care to be voluntary. Every time we walk into a physician's office I consider that part of the responsibility for however that physician may treat or mistreat her lies with my decision to take her to see a physician. I am always aware that consciously recognizing and appropriating the responsibility to determine, with each health crisis, when non-alternative medical treatment is appropriate and when following my healing instincts about my mother down non-alternative paths is appropriate places me directly in the line of fire if a medical procedure or prescription fails my mother or, worse, harms her. It also, I consider, gives my mother one more chance to avoid such failures and harm. As long as she appears to be up to life and as long as I have the resources to advocate on behalf of her medical treatment I want to provide her with that added chance.
Yep, she's sleeping in today. Good.
Later.
