Mom & Me Two Archive

    Today began last week, Thursday, to be exact, when I called the pharmacy and registered a refill on my mother's lisinopril through their auto-refill service. I drove through to retrieve it on Friday and discovered (which I'd not checked the last time I refilled it) that it wasn't "due" for a refill because some idiot somewhere had written the instructions wrong; they were probably mistyped. They were supposed to be 1/2 a 5 mg tab twice a day. Instead, the last time it was refilled the instructions had been re-written for 1/4 a 5 mg tab twice a day. The pharmacy wouldn't cop to the error and said they'd have to call the doctor to straighten it out. Unfortunately, the last prescription the doctor wrote for my mother, at my request, was for 1/2 a 2.5 mg tab twice a day. I have never turned in this prescription because her blood pressure's been spiking. I've been keeping her on the old one and saving the "new" one, which was written in September, for the days when my mother is moving again (who knows when that will be) and her blood pressure regulates itself into its lower range. But since that's the last prescription on her doctor's computer I knew that if I didn't call the office, they wouldn't correct the old prescription, they'd simply compare the misprint with the new prescription and say, "Nope, don't refill it until December 24th."
    I called the doctor's office Friday, hoping against hope that they'd be open. They weren't (they usually close at 2 p.m. on Friday). I called first thing in the morning yesterday. Come to find out my mother's doctor left the clinic some time in November so there was heightened confusion in regard to this problem. I did, though, manage to talk to someone who was able to get into the computer, confirm that the second to the last prescription written, on June 8, 2004, was indeed for 5 mg tabs to be administered half a tab twice a day, and who, further, believed me when I told her that I'd never had the second prescription filled so the refusal to refill on Thursday had to be the result of a pharmacy printing error. I had the last prescription, which was computerized with a unique number identification and was able to confirm that it had never been filled (how else would I know the ID number). The final problem, though, was laid out by the woman I spoke with; since my mother's current doctor was no longer current with them and we had yet to be seen by the physician to whom I immediately had her reassigned, the new PCP might not "feel comfortable" okaying the prescription. I didn't argue or beg. I sighed and said, well, okay, I'm sure my mother would live until the 24th if this was the case but she's been pretty immobile lately and, although she doesn't take the lisinopril, classically for blood pressure management, she needs it for that, right now.
    We ran out of lisinopril yesterday morning. As of yesterday evening the pharmacy hadn't received instructions from the doctor's office. Then, through early afternoon, after having been off the lisinopril for over 24 hours, I began to suspect that her very low level of energy was somehow connected with the break in her lisinopril dosage. I wasn't sure what I was going to do if the refill was refused until December 24th but I figured it would have something to do with getting out the mental whip and forcing her to move so that we could get her blood pressure closer to her normal range, which is: Systolic=105-125/Diastolic=55/65. I still need to do this but the medication was keeping her in an acceptable systolic range of 130-160 with only slight blips above this. It was keeping her diastolic in the mid 60s to high 70s. Not stroke range. Or I'd have to initiate yet another battle with two prongs of the medical establishment.
    Needless to say, it was with great trepidation that I approached the drive-thru window at the pharmacy today but, thank the gods, the office in Mesa came through and her prescription was there, mistake corrected. Hallelujah! This one smooth outcome completely reversed my dour mood this morning, which was a reflection of what was going on with my mother.
    I'm not sure how I'm going to get her moving again except rudely. I feel responsible for her current lethargy because of my lack of get-up-and-go on her behalf in October which I followed with My Month of Me in November. I have high hopes, though, despite a niggling incident yesterday in which I sat her out in the bright, sunny, warm yard to watch me do yardwork, bundled up against any cool breeze, assumed that she'd take an interest and wander a little, which she did 10 minutes later: She wandered into the house and refused to come out.
    I scored another video triumph today. For a couple of months she's been having me scout episodes of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. I haven't minded. She introduced me to Star Trek: Next Generation when I moved in with her, then Deep Space Nine of which I also became a devoted fan. The episodes have become harder and harder to locate in syndication. It looked as though, starting this fall, one of the cable channels was going to air the entire series in the mid-evening. After a couple of weeks they cut back to one episode at unpredictable afternoon times spotted throughout the week. My mother was usually napping when it showed. Today, when I went to Costco for our usual 2 boxes of paper underwear and the jumbo bag of salad greens, in order to avoid a cart jam I veered through the clothes section and just grazed the video section. There, as I passed the end of one of the tables, were copies of the entire Deep Space Nine series. I had earlier last week, while feeling my mother's and my frustration, looked it up on Amazon.com and choked at the price. Costco had it for $136 less. Even though it seemed expensive we can afford it and it seems as though it would be worth it, since she becomes deeply involved in the episodes and loves to discuss them, much like she reacts to Pee Wee's Playhouse. I bought it despite my hesitancy, figuring I'd tell Mom what the price was and if she wanted me to return it I would. She was so hyped that she wouldn't hear of returning it. We watched the first and second episodes of the first year tonight and she announced,afterward, that we will be watching at least one episode every day until we get through the entire 7 years.
    "What then?" I asked.
    "We'll start all over again!"
    On a hunch I asked her if she wanted the Next Generation series. She only wants some of the episodes from the later years, the ones featuring The Traveler, some of the denser episodes involving Q, "the one where the ship turns into a swamp", "the one about the town that's a holograph", "the one where a whole bunch of copies of the Enterprise show up" (she and I have a cherished history with this episode, actually), "the one with Mark Twain" (I think that is two episodes) and "any of the episodes about the crystal sphere". I wrote them down in my ever constant companion, my notebook-that-contains-my-life, so I'd remember them. I was really surprised that she even came up with a list but I guess dedicated fan-dom trumps short term memory loss. She'll be around for awhile, I can tell.
    So, bad to good to even better, all in one day. Maybe I'm finally getting the hang of this.