My trip to Madison felt like a whirlwind as I tried to cram a lot of stuff into one week. Unfortunately, I only saw Donovan and Jade for about 15 minutes. I couldn't connect with Jason, so Naleen, his ex-wife, brought the kids to see me at Leah's. I really appreciated her doing that, because otherwise I wouldn't have seen them at all.
It was a good time. I saw some friends, got to my doctor appointments and spent time with Leah, Parris and Ashanti. Leah and I bought a blow-up mattress which Shanti and I slept on. It was a lot more comfortable than the couch. Except when I had to get up in the morning. That was an ordeal. I had to roll over onto the floor and get on my knees, then hold onto something sturdy and pull myself up. I felt like an elephant trying to get to a standing position. I'm sure it was a sight to behold.
The flights to and from Milwaukee were smooth and comfortable, and except for the people sitting in back of me, was enjoyable. I'm not one to talk to another person on the plane - I just want to go to sleep as it makes the flight shorter, and frankly, I don't feel socialable after downing Dramimine and my other drugs. But the flight going there, I had the most obnoxious people sitting in back of me. They talked so loud that I heard their whole conversation. I kept rolling my eyes and sighing and it was all I could handle as they expounded on every issue of life. Finally I fell asleep and blocked the rest of it out, but I kept waking up and falling back to sleep to the sound of their New York accents. I don't have anything against New Yorkers, but sometimes their accent is a little too much for me to take. For me, it's like a fingernail scratch on a blackboard. Very irritating and obnoxious. And they probably feel the same way about my Chicago accent. Da Bears.
Anyway, I got back safely home and noticed that there was very little food in the house. I had prepared a lot of food for them for when I was gone and the refrigerator was just about empty. So it was off to the grocery store with my mother in tow. First we had to stop at the pharmacy for our drugs. Then we went to Panera bread where they have the best bagels in town. Then we went to the grocery store and we each got an electric cart to drive. My mother still has a difficult time driving the thing. She crashes into displays and goes real slow - unrealistically slow - and I had to keep waiting for her to catch up to me. Finally we were done and I was in line to pay for the groceries when I couldn't believe my eyes. I looked up and my mother, with the help of a store employee, was getting out of the cart to step on the huge scale at the front of the store. I said, "Mom, what are you doing?" and she said, "Don't worry honey," and proceeded to get on the scale to weigh herself. I honestly couldn't believe she was doing that. We threw out the scale she had at home because when she fell the last time, it was because she was trying to step up on the scale. Then she yelled out to me, and to the whole store, "I weigh 117 pounds," with glee in her voice and a smile on her face. My mother is a freak about weight. Hers, mine and everyone else's in the world. I call her the "Weight Nazi."
My father fell the day I left and refused all week to go to the doctor or the hospital. He said, " I'll wait for Sharon to take me." Why? I don't know. I must have magical powers others don't have. In any event, I have to take my mom to her follow-up appointment with the surgeon tomorrow and my dad will come along with us, in hopes that this doctor will look at him too. He's had a whole week to do this, but wanted to wait until I returned. In the meantime, he's barely walking and his wrist is swollen. I'm just praying that he didn't break his hip. He will refuse to go to rehab, which means I'll have to deal with it, and that may put me over the edge.
It's really good to be back in Florida, with all the lunacy and absurd incidents that happen here. My parents are an unending resource for writing this blog.
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