Mom Gets a Hand, Rest Was Had in Palm, and Minnesota Gets The Finger
Mom made it through surgery just fine, but the after care is another story.
It’s hard. It’s 1000% hardest on Mom. She’s “plucky”—coming through it all at the top of her class, but she (as would I) became disheartened with a half-shaved head and a big ol’ shunt sticking out. It will look better once the hair grows back, but I’ll admit, it’s a shocker.
She is not at the top of her class, however, where good post-surgical behavior is concerned. Luckily, I had been with a toddler for months and had some boot camp behind me. The toddler is easier.
I didn’t sleep nights (or days, for that matter), listening for sounds from her bedroom or of things thumping because she was “trying to be independent”. The circa 1979 waterbed also did not help. Nor did the food battles; her medical team stressed the importance of protein, especially in these critical post brain surgery days. I all but did the “Here’s an airplane! Open the hangar door!” She just wanted a salad. Or sweets. Then there was the going-out episode, not unlike wrangling a kid running across a busy, pot-holed parking lot. I could go on. Anyway; I know it is far worse being in her shoes right now. We are all anxious for things to get back to normal. And, despite the challenges, I feel lucky to be able to say that. It could have gone far the opposite direction.
After a couple of weeks, her PT gave her walking papers, and the surgery team consented (unwisely?) that she could resume driving. Her driving wasn’t stellar before the surgery, so we’re probably back to par now that her balance issues are resolved. And, she is able to shower and stay alone.
Lori returned from Florida, and helped mom find a temporary wig to wear while her hair grows out. Good job, Lori!
I flew to meet Joe in Palm Springs for Part 2. I landed late, ate a hotel grab-n-go sandwich, and fell into bed. I slept late the next morning. Joe left for golf, and I went to the pool for a half hour before going back to bed. I woke up before Joe got home in the evening. I showered in time for a late dinner at Tac/Quila (I recommend the oysters and just about everything else on the menu—the freshness is palpable) after which we came back to the hotel and I passed out until late the next morning. We really got our money’s worth out of that hotel!
I woke up Friday, feeling restored. We both relaxed by the pool, then popped downtown (where we ran into our former Lilydale neighbors, Pam and Dave!) and later met our friends Lynn and Daniel for a great night at Miro’s. We laugh the whole time we’re together; I adore our time with them! We ended our short trip by staying with them and their sweet new pup for the weekend; relaxing, swimming, cooking, eating, drinking… it was a perfect time. Thank you, thank you, Lynn, Daniel (and Joe, and Stephen Sauro), for a restful time in Palm Springs.
Back to Arizona. Our last few days at the beautiful home of the ever-gracious Laura and Megan (and their adorable dog, Winnie) were spent together with Joe’s kids, grandkids, and granddogs; all in close Mesa proximity, making precious family time and dinners together possible.
We said our fond farewells and headed through the astounding Mars-scape that is Monument Valley, ending in Moab, Utah for the night. Unfortunately, we arrived during spring break, and hotel rates (even with Stephen’s help) were astronomical. My idea to stay there several days, so we could hike Arches, wasn’t going to happen. Another trip. Moab was fun regardless of the brevity, and our hotel was in a great location. We grabbed dinner at a log-cabin restaurant called Broken Oar, and sat outside admiring the grandness of nature while our quirky server kept us laughing.
After a great night’s sleep on an awesome mattress (my 19-year-old self is rolling her eyes that this “is even a thing”), we wolfed down breakfast and began our drive to Denver.
This route also awed us. What sweeping beauty! The ever-changing scenery from red towering rocks to yellow cliffs to snow-capped mountains surrounds you like a group hug the entire way.
Reaching our Denver hotel, I Needed. To get. Out of. The car. Joe stopped for snacks and libations as I continued my walk through LoDo and along the river. Denver is a fun town, and a beautiful one. They’ve preserved their architectural treasures while incorporating modern freshness as the city grew. The murals and sculptures are injections of whimsy.
We had another opportunity to see my wonderful daughter, Maria, in Denver, on the trip back to Minnesota. Her schedule is jam-packed, but she made time — a Saturday evening, no less — for us. We went to Tavernetta, a dining experience that wowed us on a prior Denver visit. It was still enjoyable, although wow would be too strong a word this time. But who could beat the company I had?
We weren’t ready to end the night after dinner. Maria has been promising/threatening to take me to her neighborhood’s lesbian bar, so I said let’s go! We warmed up at the gay sports bar across the street, called Tight End, where Drew the bartender knows Maria. The semi-final Duke vs N. Carolina basketball game was on; it was an intense game. The sun was setting, so we finished our drinks and ambled across the street to Blush & Blu, where a karaoke night was burgeoning. It was loud and bustling and friendly and fun. Maria’s friend Vanessa, aka another of my adopted daughters, joined us there later. She became hungry, and you can’t tell an Italian-blooded woman that twice. We ventured back to Tight End, which has pizza, and another round of drinks ensued. I recall saying something like, I’m going to regret this tomorrow, but we’re having so much fun right now….
I got hugs from Drew and Octavian, and Maria said (in front of witnesses, and several times) that I am and was a good mom. My heart may have left spatters on the wall where it burst.
The inclusive community is kind and supportive and warm. I felt embraced, and in fact Octavian gave me the best hug. They folded me into the group, despite being the oldest person there by at least 25 years. Besides Joe, I mean. It’s how some may describe the essence of a parish community. Indeed. It’s Gay Church.
At some point after midnight, we decided it was time to go. I got a quick kiss from my crazy granddog as we dropped off Maria; took Vanessa home (it harkened back to their teen years when 1/3 of my life was spent dropping off kids), and safely made it to our hotel, where I should’ve had ibuprofen and a lot of water. The next day hurt. Joe was kind enough to get coffee and breakfast for me, but couldn’t do anything about the daylight that was piercing my head through my sunglasses. Maria suggested Pedialyte.
My granddog
The best of our road trip ended in Denver. Further into Colorado toward home, and all of Nebr acdf56()&;/%^?€€¥¥~~?
Oops; sorry. I fell asleep just thinking about driving that part. Throughout the stretch, the recent spring thaw is evident. Manure odors pervade the sealed-up car at long and regular intervals. I ate Saltines, kept my sunglasses on, drank Vitamin Water, and practiced Lamaze breathing.
In Lincoln, we dined at Old Folks Hour, 5:30ish, since we hadn’t had lunch, and needed to turn in early. We found a small cork & tap place with the ambience of a grade school gym, but the owner’s family has a pig farm (of course they have a pig farm) and the duroc pork chop was memorable. I started to feel slightly normal after a good meal.
Sleep, breakfast, and now driving home. Last time we popped into our (rented-out) house, it was a bit of a cluster—so many displaced things, including an exhumed heirloom Hot Wheels collection from the basement (???) and my tables of in-progress categorizing and documenting vinyl jazz albums were taken down and stuck in the wine closet. The heating bill was almost $500, so we checked—the thermostat was at 75°F! My prize orchid and other plants—dead or on their last leg. Etc etc etc. So much of the terms of this agreement went to heck when there was a breakup; only half the rent was being paid, blah blah blah. BUT. Our yard did get raked, and our sidewalk did get shoveled. The house was occupied. That was much appreciated. However. Can’t do it again. Big breath in. Out. And, lesson learned. When I go home, however, I want to be HOME. This won’t feel like it just yet. Good thing that April trip to Cuba was rescheduled for January!
*******
Update—
We arrived after the housecleaning team we hired did their thing. Items are still displaced and in random spots, but it’s clean, and I’ll eventually find everything, I’m sure. I think we’re on our way to getting stuff where we want it!
Update #2: I learned that the many missing things were broken or lost. Ok; woulda been nice to know. But the vitriol upon my polite query of such missing items…. Wow. I’m chalking this one up to experience.
This blog is to document ALL of the ups/downs of displacing oneself for a year, including these types of house-letting situations. It won’t be everyone’s outcome, but it may be a note to take. I strongly recommend a damage deposit!
************
And, I’ll only have enough time to put things in order, blink, and do laundry, before I’m back to the Motherland.
I can’t wait.
Thanks for the update on your Mom! Looking forward to reading about your next adventure, safe travels. ☘️
ReplyDelete