webglider
Dagobah Resident
I had three disorienting experiences in the last few days which have shown me where I lose my focus and resort to mechanical behavior.
Experience #1: I had just handed the vendor at the small farmers' market I usually visit three dollars and was
waiting for the change. Instead, he handed me a yellow apple. I thanked him, assuming that
it was a gesture of good will. I usually make it a point to stop at his stall, and I usually spend
much more than three dollars. However, he had given me the apple instead of my change.
I didn't want the apple: I wanted my change, but all I could say was, "This apple is worth 70
cents? He took the apple, and gave me a slightly larger apple, (I didn't want any apples),
and I walked away feeling angry and violated in some ineffable way.
Experience #2 I visited my mother who is in a nursing home on a beautiful day to take her outside into the
garden. She insisted that one of the attendants take her into the garden, so I called one.
Although my mother is 90, wheelchair bound, losing both her sight and hearing, and must
be cared for 24/7, she insists on treating me as though I were completely helpless myself,
and must be protected from all danger. My mother has managed to find the following dangers
in the nursing home: a) The elevator, b) The door that must be opened to enter the garden,
c) The possibility of theft from some of the other similarly incapacitated residents, or the staff
which she was insisting accompany us.
Although the aides understood my request, the new head nurse had to be talked out of her
incredulity as to why I needed someone else to take my mother outside After permission
was finally given, and we entered the elevator with my mother screaming, "NURSE!!!!!!
NURSE!!!!, (she was concerned about my welfare on the elevator and expected the attendant
to save me if it became stuck, or began to fall), we finally exited the elevator and
moved through the last leg of our journey which was to pass through the garden door.
After more cries of "NURSE", "NURSE" we entered the garden, the attendant fled, and we
continued our visit in the open air.
Because my daughter had not accompanied me, and because my mother wanted to speak to
her, I took out my cell phone to make the call. "Put that away," she ordered me, "So it
won't get stolen. Please put it away. Please listen to me. Put it away." Okay. I put it away.
Then she began, "Close your purse. Close your purse. Listen to me, close your purse. They
steal here."
For a while I was able to engage her in conversation, but there was no shade and I needed to
go inside. My mother immediately began to call for the "nurse", but there was no aide in the
garden. As I began to get up to bring her back inside, she told me a story of a woman she had
known who had lifted a heavy weight and had had a miscarriage and could never have babies.
"I can do this, ma" I said with grim cheer and began to wheel her inside. I got the
door open by kicking it wider with my foot, and then began to pull the wheelchair in backwards.
up a slight incline. To my complete horror, the plastic hand grip pulled off the handle, and I
began to lose control of the chair. I frantically began to try to push the arm onto the handle
and the chair veered off in a wide angle before I regained control and pull it through the door.
Once we were inside, she said with surprise, "You did it." I was shaking, but said, "Of course".
My mother is funny and smart but filled with so much fear that it is hard to be with her.
On the walk back to the subway, I suddenly felt my eyes fill with tears, (pity? exasperation?)
I felt sad for her, but I also felt completely drained. A part of me was able to
say, "This is just a program", but in truth there were so many programs running that I felt like
a mechanical thing.
Episode 3: My daughter did very badly in school last year - her junior year in high school. Her grades are
low, and she failed a major project which she must make up this summer. If she doesn't, she
will have to do the senior project, and an entirely different project to make up for the one she
didn't do last semester. These projects are a requirement for graduation, and since the school
requires students to take full programs each semester, I am concerned that they will kick her
out next June if she doesn't fulfill the requirements.
Of course she waited until the last week. She has been in therapy, and my friend helped her
begin last Friday, and she was chastened by some serious consequences that I had meted out,
and was beginning to get into a rhythm when her friend - the friend who had made no time for
her all summer - called with an invitation to go away for a few days.
This girl seems to have a charismatic pull on my daughther, but my daughter who was just
beginning to to pull together her project was ready to abandon it to go with this friend who had
been too busy for her all summer.
I completely lost it. It was a horrible day, nothing got accomplished, my daughter
is the one with the headache this time; I said things I should not have said, and can not take back.
And just to underscore how mechanical the whole episode with my daughter was, was the realiz-
tion that my fear for her, is very much like the fear my mother has for me.
Is there any way out of this? I (whoever I is) feels totally trapped.
Experience #1: I had just handed the vendor at the small farmers' market I usually visit three dollars and was
waiting for the change. Instead, he handed me a yellow apple. I thanked him, assuming that
it was a gesture of good will. I usually make it a point to stop at his stall, and I usually spend
much more than three dollars. However, he had given me the apple instead of my change.
I didn't want the apple: I wanted my change, but all I could say was, "This apple is worth 70
cents? He took the apple, and gave me a slightly larger apple, (I didn't want any apples),
and I walked away feeling angry and violated in some ineffable way.
Experience #2 I visited my mother who is in a nursing home on a beautiful day to take her outside into the
garden. She insisted that one of the attendants take her into the garden, so I called one.
Although my mother is 90, wheelchair bound, losing both her sight and hearing, and must
be cared for 24/7, she insists on treating me as though I were completely helpless myself,
and must be protected from all danger. My mother has managed to find the following dangers
in the nursing home: a) The elevator, b) The door that must be opened to enter the garden,
c) The possibility of theft from some of the other similarly incapacitated residents, or the staff
which she was insisting accompany us.
Although the aides understood my request, the new head nurse had to be talked out of her
incredulity as to why I needed someone else to take my mother outside After permission
was finally given, and we entered the elevator with my mother screaming, "NURSE!!!!!!
NURSE!!!!, (she was concerned about my welfare on the elevator and expected the attendant
to save me if it became stuck, or began to fall), we finally exited the elevator and
moved through the last leg of our journey which was to pass through the garden door.
After more cries of "NURSE", "NURSE" we entered the garden, the attendant fled, and we
continued our visit in the open air.
Because my daughter had not accompanied me, and because my mother wanted to speak to
her, I took out my cell phone to make the call. "Put that away," she ordered me, "So it
won't get stolen. Please put it away. Please listen to me. Put it away." Okay. I put it away.
Then she began, "Close your purse. Close your purse. Listen to me, close your purse. They
steal here."
For a while I was able to engage her in conversation, but there was no shade and I needed to
go inside. My mother immediately began to call for the "nurse", but there was no aide in the
garden. As I began to get up to bring her back inside, she told me a story of a woman she had
known who had lifted a heavy weight and had had a miscarriage and could never have babies.
"I can do this, ma" I said with grim cheer and began to wheel her inside. I got the
door open by kicking it wider with my foot, and then began to pull the wheelchair in backwards.
up a slight incline. To my complete horror, the plastic hand grip pulled off the handle, and I
began to lose control of the chair. I frantically began to try to push the arm onto the handle
and the chair veered off in a wide angle before I regained control and pull it through the door.
Once we were inside, she said with surprise, "You did it." I was shaking, but said, "Of course".
My mother is funny and smart but filled with so much fear that it is hard to be with her.
On the walk back to the subway, I suddenly felt my eyes fill with tears, (pity? exasperation?)
I felt sad for her, but I also felt completely drained. A part of me was able to
say, "This is just a program", but in truth there were so many programs running that I felt like
a mechanical thing.
Episode 3: My daughter did very badly in school last year - her junior year in high school. Her grades are
low, and she failed a major project which she must make up this summer. If she doesn't, she
will have to do the senior project, and an entirely different project to make up for the one she
didn't do last semester. These projects are a requirement for graduation, and since the school
requires students to take full programs each semester, I am concerned that they will kick her
out next June if she doesn't fulfill the requirements.
Of course she waited until the last week. She has been in therapy, and my friend helped her
begin last Friday, and she was chastened by some serious consequences that I had meted out,
and was beginning to get into a rhythm when her friend - the friend who had made no time for
her all summer - called with an invitation to go away for a few days.
This girl seems to have a charismatic pull on my daughther, but my daughter who was just
beginning to to pull together her project was ready to abandon it to go with this friend who had
been too busy for her all summer.
I completely lost it. It was a horrible day, nothing got accomplished, my daughter
is the one with the headache this time; I said things I should not have said, and can not take back.
And just to underscore how mechanical the whole episode with my daughter was, was the realiz-
tion that my fear for her, is very much like the fear my mother has for me.
Is there any way out of this? I (whoever I is) feels totally trapped.