Health overshadows season

I had intended to write about reindeer this week. I wanted to concoct a story about Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner and Blitzen. It was to include a paragraph or two about Rudolph. I wanted to tell you about Millicent, Miranda and Quincy who work behind the scenes training the reindeer who pull Santa’s sleigh. I meant to include a bit about why reindeer were chosen to pull the sleigh instead of sled dogs, oxen or even Yeti’s.
But my mind isn’t on reindeer or any other aspect of Christmas. I can’t think. My mind is on other things. I am in way over my head and am so unsure of myself that even my favorite time of year takes a backseat to my fretting.
I have been at my mother’s house yet again. I long for the days when she was healthy and so busy with her own life that she didn’t notice that I came by once every five or six weeks. I have spent more time at her home this year than I have in the previous 30 years combined.
We visited three different doctors in two days. I wasn’t happy with what any of them had to say. The first doctor diagnosed an old problem and scheduled a corrective procedure for the following Friday. The second did a biopsy and said the results would be back in a couple of weeks. If it was bad news then the doctor could take care of it at her Centerville office.
I immediately balked. I haven’t driven to Centerville, Ohio in almost three decades. Since I lived in that area they have added a lot of new roads, extended some and rerouted others. Plus the traffic congestion has grown exponentially. I was presented with other choices that were more acceptable, so now we wait.
We stopped for lunch and in the process she stepped in a puddle, soaking the stocking she was wearing as her foot is still too swollen to allow her to wear both shoes. I hadn’t thought to bring a spare pair.
The last doctor had a hissy fit because her sock was wet. He said she belonged in a nursing home because she couldn’t even keep her feet dry. They would have been dry if we hadn’t had so many doctors to see. Then he referred us to two more specialists after mentioning scary words like, “amputation.”
Like most people, my mother prefers to stay in her own home until she dies. We, her family, are doing everything we can to make that happen. I think she is safer there than she would be in a nursing home where she isn’t even allowed to walk around without permission and help.
Do I realize, as the doctor pointed out, that “bad things” will happen if she stays in her own home? Of course. She is 85. Bad things are bound to happen. Will she be happier in her own home instead of stuck in a lonely room? Absolutely.
So it comes down to what is more important  —  safety or happiness? I vote for happiness.
Even though I was still in a quandary, I braved the winter storm to take her to her procedure on Friday. I arrived at her house safely enough, but it took me far longer to navigate the icy roads than I expected it would. There is no way we would have made the appointment on time so we rescheduled it for next week.
While I was there, the doctor called and scheduled an appointment with one of the specialists she had been referred to. I am hoping one of my brothers can take her as another winter storm is scheduled to wreak havoc with the roads once again.
Meanwhile, I have Santa letters to write to the grandchildren. I have presents to buy and wrap. I have things to do that have nothing to do with doctors and the inevitable trials of old age. But my mom and her problems are on my mind. I want to do what is right for her but do not know what that is.
I am reminded of a T-shirt slogan I once saw that read, “When I was a kid, I wanted to be older. This is not what I expected.”

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