Tuesday, August 7, 2007

Do You Hear What I Hear?

I’ve been yelling at MoM for months. So have Brother #1, Brother #2, Doctor, Ex-Sister-in-Law and Kindly Neighbor. It’s the only way she could hear us. She might have gotten her hearing aids fixed sooner if it weren’t for back-to-back stints in the hospital and a prolonged seating assignment in a wheelchair.

The hearing aids didn’t die outright–first they started falling out of her ears and we would frantically call the restaurant, the doctor’s office, the ballpark, or wherever she had been to see if anyone found a used hearing aid (ewww). Then MoM started complaining that one of the hearing aids stopped working. She limped along with one working hearing aid as her TV blared across the patio home complex, and phone calls became increasing difficult. . . .until the other hearing aid waved the white flag and died.

I planned to take off work an hour and a half in order to take MoM to the Hearing Aid Dealer. Knowing she doesn’t move fast, I told her to be ready at 10am this morning to make an 11:00 appointment. She was ready at 10am–ready to begin eating breakfast. As she started eating S-L-O-W-L-Y and sipping her coffee, I stood in place glowering at her and muttering to myself. “Sit down and make yourself comfortable”, she said, oblivious to any time constraints. “I LIKE TO STAND”, I growled.

Breakfast finally over, I loaded her into my car, and hoping I wouldn’t throw out my back, hoisted her wheelchair into the trunk after several tries. Off we trooped to the Far West Side 25 miles away to see the Hearing Aid Dealer that abandoned the location twelve blocks from her house. I drove with the handicapped placard flying from the rear-view mirror despite law enforcement’s preference that you NOT obstruct your view while driving. MoM insists that we should drive with it proudly suspended right in front of my field of vision. . . because she does.

The Hearing Aid Dealer couldn’t have been nicer (maybe because I called him in advance pleading my mother’s case and asking him for help) and MoM couldn’t have been bitchier. I spent most of the time saying, “Thank you so much” hoping he wouldn’t turn on MoM although I wouldn’t have blamed him. Turns out the hearing aids were plugged with debris (don’t ask), the batteries were dead, and the reason they were falling out was because she wasn’t putting them in correctly. We spent a good hour just trying to teach her how to insert them completely, and she failed every time. EVERY TIME.

Hearing Aid Dealer capitulated before I did, and inserting them himself in MoM’s teeny little ears, we left to begin the drive home. It was quiet in the car as I drove and tried to calculate how far behind I was going to be at work. Suddenly MoM whipped out a Starbucks’ gift card and said, “Why don’t we stop for a treat?” Now I’m a regular at the hunter green logo’d drive-thru, but MoM? Then she explained, “Remember when I had you drop off my prescription at the new drug store after the last hospital visit? Yup, I remember. I remember driving out of my way past at least 5 drugstores because she insisted her prescription had to go to this particular store. Because she knew she’d get a Starbucks’ gift card.

I missed 4 hours of work. But I got a mocha frappacino out of it. I think she loves me.

2 comments:

yours truly said...

Oh gosh ... what a day! You're a good daughter. I love mocha frappacino's too, so ... it was worth it all in my book!

Sandra said...

This cracked me up. I could hear your mother, and I could hear you too, even the voices that were only in your HEAD!

It feels deliciously unkosher that I know all the characters in this soap. A blog seems like the perfect spot for a little arms-length voyeurism...