I have an issue with making medical appointments for my parents. I don't mind making the calls, but there are extra "issues" involved that make things tricky. I have to explain that "I moved my parents here from Illinois and blah, blah, blah..." Plus, I'm not sure where you make medical appointments, but here, it involves spending a LOT of time on the phone. I HATE spending time on the phone.
Oh and can I just say, that the medical community is OBSESSED with asking who your "primary care" doctor is. I get it! But sometimes, we CHANGE primary care doctors and the answer isn't so damn simple!!! (Sorry, I'm ranting.)
So, one of the things I've been putting off was getting my Mom a rheumatologist up here. (Sidebar: I love that word "rheumatologist." It sounds all old-timey. Like a doctor that someone on the Honeymooners would go to see.) Let me interrupt this again by saying that Mom has "White Coat Syndrome." If you ask HER about it, she will tell you that it means that her blood pressure goes up in the doctor's office. I believe that it means that she falls in love with her doctors. Not LOVE, love, but intense "like." If they are nice to her, she thinks they are the best thing on earth. And who wants to leave the best thing on earth? (I've met a couple of her doctors and they are nice, but I won't compare them to Jonas Salk or anything. When I look at her doctors I think of the BMW that is parked in the lot outside the office or the McMansion that Mom's Medicare pays for.)
Mom's current rheumatologist gave us a referral...all the way across town. I'm sure that person is great, but try shuttling two old people all the way across town, let alone just getting them in the car and you'll understand my hesitation. We have a GARGANTUAN medical campus 5 minutes from our house. It's a Medical College and Level One Trauma Center along with ancillary specialty clinics, literally within walking distance (for me.) It would make my life MUCH easier if her new rheumatologist were in the medical campus, so I had this talk with her:
"Mom, I'm going to ask your new primary care doctor (who Mom hasn't yet met) for a referral to a rheumatologist. I know that Dr. Bello recommended somebody, but that person is all the way across town and it will be hard on all of us to manage regular appointments over there, especially if you have to go twice a week for occupational therapy."
In response, Mom gave me sad, puppy dog eyes and then said: "But I'm on medication. I'm on prednisone. I need someone to check that."
"Mom, I'm pretty sure that there will be someone over here on the medical campus who knows about prednisone. I guarantee you they have an incredible rheumatologist. In fact, that's where all the rheumatologists learn to be rheumatologists. And I'm pretty sure they are all quite familiar with prednisone," I replied.
Basically, this whole situation was tough because this was one of the first times I've told my Mom no. I did it for my own sanity. I saw my future and if my future involved getting these two oldsters in a car and driving somewhere, all of us will benefit if our destination is 5 minutes or less. Right now, the weather here is nice, but I'm pretty sure my new roomies aren't heading to their Florida condo in November when it will be cold and snowy and traffic will be snarled. THEY DON'T HAVE A FLORIDA CONDO.
So, prior to telling Mom "no" I melted down on the phone a little with Hubby. I literally got a bit weepy. He heard it in my voice. He tried cracking a joke. It wasn't funny to me at that moment. But I survived.
Oh but my big accomplishment yesterday was taking Dad over to that giant medical campus for blood work and a kidney ultrasound. Alone. Just me and Dad. Mom wanted to stay home, and who could blame her? So we got there and parked. (I NEED that handicapped tag for my car. I refuse to break rules and park there without one.) I ran over and grabbed a wheelchair (no way Dad could handle walking that far) and Dad and I navigated through hallways and floors and found everything we needed. It was actually a nice little trip. Dad was fairly lucid, despite being at the end of the dosage for his dementia patch. We chatted a bit and as I pushed the wheelchair, he pointed and told me where to go. Simply adorable. I think, for a few minutes, he felt relatively normal. Like nobody was treating him like an idiot. I get it.
Another day survived.
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