Taking Mom to the Doctor

My mother recently had a stroke, so my family and I have been taking turns with helping her. Today, I took on the responsibilty of taking her to the doctor, which at the time, seemed like small potatoes. I guess in the overall scheme of things, the potatoes were small, but maybe a bit curly, like those weird fries some places sell..................

So, here is a synopsis of this adventure..............

1. Leave work to pick up my mother: no problems to report here. This was the easy part.
2. Get Mom in car: Again, smooth sailing.
3. Drive with my mother trying to tell me how to get there: This is where the "adventure" begins. The trip to the doctor looks something like this:

--------->


Doctor Office Here.

My mom's "directions" are like this:

------>
turn

<------

turn

------->

turn

<------Get there sometime in the future.

I don't know why, and will not understand why she wants to make about a zillion turns and go through twice as many traffic lights to save 1/10th of a mile. So, instead of barking, "Be quiet and let me drive!!", I have to stop the insanity with, "I know where it is." That worked today.

4. Try to park at the doctor's office. As if!!! It was as full as a DisneyWorld parking lot, but with no cute characters and no tram to pick up our tired butts!!!! I'm muttering by now, and Mom's pointing towards what I notice is a dumpster. Nope, can't park there. Find a spot, then begin the walk to the office, which is:

5. the most BORING waiting room EVER!!! I will try to give you a visual:

One portrait on the wall so far away, that I'm not sure what it is. A TV in the corner playing (gag me here), "The Price is Right". About 10 magazines about NOTHING anyone cares about, and at dated at least FOUR years, which immediadely tells me that:

6. We wait for over an hour!!!!!!! No doctor's office with decent magazines will have you wait long. Only the loser offices with the antique magazines and hard chairs do that!!!

7. Finally get seen by the doctor, who breezes in and out faster than a Nascar tire changer dude. I wanted to smack him with one of his old magazines!

8. Leave and then go to get something to eat from the local sandwich shop. I know that Mom cannot speak well, so I try to be smart and ask her what she wants before we get in. The sandwiches are numbered, so I figure that this will be easy. She gives me a number 35, and we go in.

9. There is NO number 35 on the menu!!! We get to the counter, then the clerk, myself, and my Mom begin the game of number charades, until I feel that people will lynch us. I order something I know she will like, which probably saved me a beating from the customers behind us.

Finished with the lunch, and got her home safely. Has anyone seen my therapist? Oh, that's right, I don't have one.............Yet!!!