Sunday, December 1, 2013

Elderly Woman Nearly Killed by Magnifying Mirror /Daughter Seeks the Peace of the Wild Things

A bleeding head wound, an irregular heartbeat, a swollen and infected ear, kids sick and cranky with fevers, a woman on crutches with a wrapped up foot, two men immobilized with back pain, a guy writhing with a kidney stone, a woman with a neon red face, a guy smashed by a baseball. This was the cast of characters in the ER today.

After a wait of more than four hours, a sweet and patient doctor briefly discussed the current issue of the New Yorker I was reading and then lanced the infected lump on my mom's face. Oxnard is perfect during the day I told him. At night I'd give just about anything to be transported to New York. Yeah, he said. Oh yeah.

So maybe my mom is on the mend with a new antibiotic and a anti-nausea drug to combat the effects of the antibiotic. Maybe not. I told her she has to stop plucking the errant bristles on her chin, the stray eyebrows, the little pimples (that I think she imagines) and the brown spots. She's often perched over her magnifying (20X) mirror when I pass by her room. "Your death certificate will read: Cause of Death: magnifying mirror," I told her today as she lay in a uncomfortable ER bed. Not my most compassionate moment.

This evening as we scrutinized the labels on her new meds, I advised her that the anti-nausea drug may cause dizziness when alcohol is consumed. "May," she said. "I'm having my martini."

And also in the household: C, coming down with scratchy throat. M, finishing up a sinus infection.

My current fantasy: Hiking in Greece (or fucking anywhere with a bunch of people who feel fucking fabulous.) I will sprout chin hairs and a unibrow while wearing a shapeless black dress flaunting my waistless spreading body. Power to the crone, I will screech when I reach the mountain top.

I actually took this picture of a goat in Greece!

Dinner: Pizza. I took a long, long walk on the beach after my post ER trip to the pharmacy.

Alternate fantasy: Doing an Icarus in an ultralight.


Ms. Moon said...

Dear God. That is all.

Elizabeth said...

For a moment, I thought your mother had been blinded by the sun hitting the magnifying glass -- or at the very least, burned. But that goes very well with the Icarus imagery, too, doesn't it?

lily cedar said...

Sounds like a fun weekend:)

Your mom and I have a lot in common, I can't leave my chin hairs alone either. I do like the Greece fantasy. I already have waistless body and the chin hairs. I'll buy myself a shapeless black dress and join you.

Suz said...