The Doctor visit...
Each doctor visit begins the same way..."Come on, let's go, what time is the appointment? Didn't I tell you to be ready?" With some grumbling, and why questions, they load themselves into the car. Mom goes into the back seat. Her comments include"
"Your car is so dirty"
"Why do you have a Gibbs College mug here?"
"What do you want me to throw out?"
"This is so disgusting"
Dad sits in the front, pulling the car door closed across his body since his right arm is still "broken". He is able to open cookie packages, write, flip through his baseball cards, cook and lift pots of pasta with his right arm. Then he gives me a line about his seatbelt, after I remind him to put it on. "When I worked for the telephone company and we had to go in the cars or trucks, we weren't allowed to put our seatbelts on until we had the car facing forward so I never put my seatbelt on until the car is facing forward." Yes, he really says that. My response is always something about never hitting anything while backing up...Dad hit a palm tree some years ago so hard he had to have the whole back end of a station wagon replaced. Just putting it out there.
Dad usually says bad things about my driving. Sometimes, just to throw him off, I drive the speed limit, and thank Mom for her good driver training.
We pull into whatever parking area this particular doctor's office has. Mom yells, "There's a good one" when we go by open spaces. We get out of the car, find the main entrance, and always have to take the elevator. Doctors for old people never have their offices on the first floor. Have you noticed that? We cannot ever take the stairs (Dad has knee, hip, back, now shoulder stuff).
Dad checks in, calling whoever is at the window of the office "Dear". At the Primary Care Doc office, we have to bring munchkins (bribery so they laugh at the jokes). Then, no matter where we are, he says, "You look familiar". He always knows the person, or someone who knows the person. My friends, that IS where I get it from. Forms are filled out, surprisingly accurately. I get put on the OK to know list (yes, that is necessary), and we wait a bit more. Then we get brought to the room.
Chit chat is necessary to break up the tension, so I joke with Mom - and Dad adjusts his sling. I usually pull out a magazine just to find a picture to show Mom. Dad pulls out all his notes, and I review them for what is really needed at this particular visit.
Sometimes there is a Medical Assistant to do the initial questions, sometimes the doc just pops in. All the docs start looking at Mom, ask her a question, Dad jumps right in. Sometimes the doc will interrupt him. I chew on my lips and tongue to keep from talking. Within 2 sentences, my Dad has turned the tide to his problems and issues. For example, "She had 2 strokes on May 4th in Disney while we were there, and I don't know when they started the coumadin because I broke my arm and spent a day in the emergency room." Oh, wait, that was only 1 sentence (a run-on, but still only 1). Mom sticks her tongue out at Dad, and sometimes gives him the finger.
The doc eventually looks my way. I read my phone off with the litany of what happened (showing my technical ability). I use big words and maintain eye contact whenever possible. I have started to try and keep my teacherly voice at a minimum when referring to my Dad (as in "Perhaps my Dad wasn't there in the room when the hospitalist checked that"...of course I want to say "Dad was probably too busy schmoozing the nurses...finding out if they were related to anyone he knew").
Eventually, when the doc has finished typing his notes (all male doctors so far), and looks all set to go, I stand up. Dad is glued to his seat - he just isn't going to move till he's had his say. He asks the doc about a particular med (just pick one...), then asks one more question just to ask it. Mom then jumps off the exam table (yes, she does).
If it went all right, I take them for a treat to bring home. If not, straight home to eat waffles.
"Your car is so dirty"
"Why do you have a Gibbs College mug here?"
"What do you want me to throw out?"
"This is so disgusting"
Dad sits in the front, pulling the car door closed across his body since his right arm is still "broken". He is able to open cookie packages, write, flip through his baseball cards, cook and lift pots of pasta with his right arm. Then he gives me a line about his seatbelt, after I remind him to put it on. "When I worked for the telephone company and we had to go in the cars or trucks, we weren't allowed to put our seatbelts on until we had the car facing forward so I never put my seatbelt on until the car is facing forward." Yes, he really says that. My response is always something about never hitting anything while backing up...Dad hit a palm tree some years ago so hard he had to have the whole back end of a station wagon replaced. Just putting it out there.
Dad usually says bad things about my driving. Sometimes, just to throw him off, I drive the speed limit, and thank Mom for her good driver training.
We pull into whatever parking area this particular doctor's office has. Mom yells, "There's a good one" when we go by open spaces. We get out of the car, find the main entrance, and always have to take the elevator. Doctors for old people never have their offices on the first floor. Have you noticed that? We cannot ever take the stairs (Dad has knee, hip, back, now shoulder stuff).
Dad checks in, calling whoever is at the window of the office "Dear". At the Primary Care Doc office, we have to bring munchkins (bribery so they laugh at the jokes). Then, no matter where we are, he says, "You look familiar". He always knows the person, or someone who knows the person. My friends, that IS where I get it from. Forms are filled out, surprisingly accurately. I get put on the OK to know list (yes, that is necessary), and we wait a bit more. Then we get brought to the room.
Chit chat is necessary to break up the tension, so I joke with Mom - and Dad adjusts his sling. I usually pull out a magazine just to find a picture to show Mom. Dad pulls out all his notes, and I review them for what is really needed at this particular visit.
Sometimes there is a Medical Assistant to do the initial questions, sometimes the doc just pops in. All the docs start looking at Mom, ask her a question, Dad jumps right in. Sometimes the doc will interrupt him. I chew on my lips and tongue to keep from talking. Within 2 sentences, my Dad has turned the tide to his problems and issues. For example, "She had 2 strokes on May 4th in Disney while we were there, and I don't know when they started the coumadin because I broke my arm and spent a day in the emergency room." Oh, wait, that was only 1 sentence (a run-on, but still only 1). Mom sticks her tongue out at Dad, and sometimes gives him the finger.
The doc eventually looks my way. I read my phone off with the litany of what happened (showing my technical ability). I use big words and maintain eye contact whenever possible. I have started to try and keep my teacherly voice at a minimum when referring to my Dad (as in "Perhaps my Dad wasn't there in the room when the hospitalist checked that"...of course I want to say "Dad was probably too busy schmoozing the nurses...finding out if they were related to anyone he knew").
Eventually, when the doc has finished typing his notes (all male doctors so far), and looks all set to go, I stand up. Dad is glued to his seat - he just isn't going to move till he's had his say. He asks the doc about a particular med (just pick one...), then asks one more question just to ask it. Mom then jumps off the exam table (yes, she does).
If it went all right, I take them for a treat to bring home. If not, straight home to eat waffles.
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