Monday

Last Monday, we took Grandma to what I am hoping and praying is her last dentist appointment for a very long time. Once we were there, I found a handicap parking space very close to the building, since there was a bus blocking the driveway, as usual. I was very happy with my spot, but my smile quickly turned into a frown when I saw the handicap ramp closes to us was blocked off by construction tape. The other ramp was on the other side of the bus that was blocking the damn drop off. Oh gosh, I really sound crazy. "We will have to walk a little to the other ramp," I say.
"No," Granmda insists, "I can get up on the curb here." The curb was not blocked off by tape, mind you, just the ramp.
"Okay," I say. So, Kathy holds Grandma's walker steady on the curb while I lift her up.
"Oh, no, no! You can't do that over there! There is construction going on!" A female security guard yells over to us. At this point I am holding Grandma in the air.
"Can we please just finish what we started over here?" I ask.
"Well. . . okay," she says, "but there is another ramp over here, you coulda just dropped her off at."
I don't have the energy to argue with her, that there was a bus blocking the drop off. As we walk up a second ramp to the building, some really douchy guys, probably in their forties who happen to be standing around, offer, "Yeah, you know there is a ramp on the other side."
Oh really, I want to say, that's great, but I don't give a shit about the ramp on the other side right now. I am using THIS handicap ramp! I would like to shove my grandmother's walker up your ass though.
Once we get up to the dentist's office, I see Dr. L talking to his receptionist behind the desk. "You are the devil!" I say to him, but probably not loud enough for him to hear me. Grandma is called in and he says with a big smile, "I told you you'd be back." At this I almost melt with disgust.
"Well, don't tell here she'll be back this time," I suggest as Grandma is taken to the back. The appointment doesn't take very long, which I am very happy about. We exit the building through the non-construction side, and decide to go to lunch. Grandma usually likes to take us to lunch after her appointments which is very nice of her. I used to find it very aggravating taking her in and out of the car, and the restaurant, but I have calmed down a lot, and am actually quite patient now. I think it is good for Grandma to get out, otherwise she would be like one of those shut-ins who just stare at the wall and lick their blankets. Actually, for her apparent lack of mobility, Grandma does get out a lot and is very savvy. My husband and I drove into Pittsburgh recently, and on Fith Avenue, a main road, there was this rehabilitation/nursing home. It was later at night and the windows were open in the front. All we could see were these old people just kind of slumped over in their wheel chairs staring into space. It was really sad, but I felt a kind of relief that Grandma is not like that. Sometimes a lot of times she can be aggravating and demanding and self centered and needy, but she is with it, and she does like to get out, which can be a blessing and a curse. I mean when she doesn't want to go out, we all get aggravated and say, "See this is why you have trouble walking, if you don't use it, you're going to lose it!" But then when she does want to get out, it's like "Oh why are you so slow? Wouldn't it be easier if we just bring you lunch to your apartment?" It's hard to have your mind going in so many different directions, so I have decided to take the stance, sometimes reluctantly that it is better to have Grandma get out than stay in, with the exception of grocery shopping, because that is just ridiculous, like beyond. Anyway, for lunch we decide to go to the diner in our town, which is a place we go to a lot. They have mostly older patrons, so they know how to treat the elderly. Grandma seems to be preoccupied from the get-go by the limited amount of wait staff.
"Our waitress is the only one here," she says.
"She's the only one in our section," I answer, "they all have different sections."
"She's not taking her time." Grandma comments.
"Well it's fast paced here," I answer, "she has to move quickly."
"What I mean to say is, she's perspiring." Grandma whispers. And then surveying the crowd, she whispers, "It's all old people here."
JoJo