This story came to me in that mid-range place between sleep and awake just now. That happens almost every night at that time, but I rarely ever leap out of bed to record it. I suppose I should make that leaping a permanent habit.
Stan slowly put down the receiver. He was in shock. Had he just been offered a job writing in Japan, or was he dreaming? He had been secretly interviewing with a paper there, behind his boss's back, but dare he believe it? A good pinch, and... nope. He was definitely awake.
The drive home that day seemed painfully long. He made a quick stop for some wine and flowers to celebrate. He couldn't wait to surprise his favorite lady with the great news. All he wanted to do was rush in the door and tell his mom all about it. Don't get the wrong idea here, Stan did NOT live with his mother, his mother lived with him. His house, she lived in the guest room.
You see Stan's parents had him when they were around forty years old. They used to joke that he was a surprise, but the best kind of surprise. He never minded that. It's better than them looking at him disdainfully and saying "You weren't planned." So, they had aged earlier than most of his childhood friends' parents. Now with Stan nearly thirty his mother was over seventy. After his father, Joe, had passed on, his mother really couldn't live alone. It wasn't Celeste's fault, she was "just damn old", she'd say.
Stan dropped his keys twice trying to get the door open in his hurry. In his excitement his brain seemed a couple steps ahead of his hands.
When he finally got in, his news seemed trivial. The flowers and bottle slipped from his limp grip and the wine exploded all over his leg and the tile floor. He didn't even notice. From the door, through the living room and into the kitchen Stan could see his mothers' slippered feet lying in front of the open fridge.
************
"Mr Bataglia? Stan Bataglia?" A female voice startled him out of his dosing in the waiting room.
"Yes, that's me."
"Mr Bataglia, please sit down, I'd like to-"
"I don't want to sit down, why should I sit down? She's dead? Oh god-" he sat down. Then he stood back up, unable to stop touching his face or control himself.
"No, no. She's not dead. She's got a few good years left in her yet. Now will you please sit down." he did. Doctor Taggert (by her nametag) was a middle-aged black woman, and reminded Stan strongly of Angela Bassett. "Okay, now you're mother suffered a fairly severe stroke. As you know, she was in a brief coma, but she's out of it now and she seems mostly okay."
"Mostly? What-what does that mean, mostly?"
"She's lost some control of motor function on her rght side. She can move, but seems to have trouble telling her limbs just exactly what they should do. With time and therapy she can improve there."
"Well, that's good, right? Can I see her yet?" he stood up again, this time a little less agitated.
"That is good, yes, but hold on a second, we're not done." he slowly sat back down. "You're mother's mind has been affected in other ways too. She has a rare form of dementia. She's been coming in and out of reality. When this happens she seems to shift through various time periods in her life. Sometimes she seems to know who I am and where and when she is, but she's also identified me twice as Eunice. Is that a name you're familar with?"
"My aunt. Her sister."
"I figured it was a sister or a close girlfriend by the way she talked to me. I've been playing along, it's easier on her. You know you're mother led quite a life from what she's been telling me these passed few days in here." the Doctor tried a smile, but Stan wasn't going for it.
"No, I didn't know that."
"Well, when she gets these spells I would recommend not fighting her. She's weak and fragile and a serious emotional shock could..."
"Yeah! Okay, I get that. So, what? I just play along?"
"Play along." She nodded "If nothing else, it will keep her happy and comfortable while she's still around."
"Okay." He had to digest that for a minute. His mother was now basically, what? Crazy? And if he wanted to talk to her he'd have to be Uncle Burt? Or Grandpa? Or... Dad.
"Thank you, Doctor. Can I see her now?"
"Of course. Nurse?" She flagged down a passing RN. "Can you take him to see this patient, please?" The obviously busy nurse gave her an irritated nod. "Thank you." the doctor handed off the clipboard and then over her shoulder as she walked off tossed at him "Worst case scenario; you might learn something through all this."
No comments:
Post a Comment