luciab: (susan 3rd grade)
My mother called last night, trying not to let Daddy hear her talking. It was kinda funny; I felt like I should close the studio door to keep it more secret or something. Anyway, she was telling me about their taxes. She wants to believe Daddy's okay, so she has let him "take care of" the taxes this year. Yep, that's worked out just about as well as you thought it would, given that he still has some dementia from the hospital stay, and I think he has recovered about as much as he's going to. When she asked him about it, he said, "Well, let me think about that a minute." And later when she siad, "Well, where would you have put stuff like that?"he said "Don't be so critical!" Seems no one has any idea where the tax information is. It's not just their retirement income, either; they have interest income too. They have an accountant (I should probably send him flowers or steak or something) who said, "Don't worry about it! I'll file an extension for you," which was a hell of a relief for Mother. What a saint, to be so nice when they called him on April 14 with this dilemma. Mother said he was so sweet she almost cried, and she doesn't cry any easier than I do. She said he did tell her that he noticed some confusion on Daddy's part last year at tax time but thought it was because of Aunt Susan's death. That really surprised her.

What really prompted the call, though, was that the accountant said he should probably have Danny's and my phone numbers and contact info. That both scared her and made her indignant. She informed me that during the war, her job was "figures" whatever the hell that means. (And here I had pictured her with her little Rosie the Riveter scarf on.) She was good at it, too, she informed me. And while she was telling me the story, she uttered the first curse word I have ever heard her say in my entire life. She said she had done everything she could find to do, so the supervisor gave her a project she thought would take Mother awhile. Later she came back and said "How's that coming?" obviously thinking Mother would be working away for hours more. Mother handed her the papers, and the supervisor said "Damn!" Mother got such a kick out of saying this forbidden word that she repeated that part of the story two or three times. Mother learning to curse....what a Hallmark moment.

She admits that she can't afford to let financial stuff like that go now. She insists, though, that he drove to church yesterday "and didn't make a single mistake!" Sigh. Or yikes. Or both.

It's just the same-old, same-old, otherwise. I volunteered at the library today, got my taxes submitted, and filled out a job application. Wait, that isn't exactly the same old thing. Blase, that's me. Now I'm working on the last set of silly questions. Some of these are harder, though. Might have to bestir myself to go to the library or something. What a concept.


Feb. 16th, 2007 07:46 pm
luciab: (Default)
My mother just called to let me know the results of a visit to the eye doctor; she was diagnosed a few years back with very early macular degeneration and was concerned because she thought she might be seeing some distortion. Since Mother and Daddy are, as noted earlier, now 86 and 87, they felt it would be better for them to switch from doctors in Lexington, which is 30-45 minutes away, depending on the exact part of town, to doctors in Richmond. Mother had seen this doctor years ago, but in the interim had been seeing a doc in Lexington. When Dr. Millet walked in to the office today and saw Mother, she (the doctor) chewed Mother out royally. "You put me second," was one of her comments. Mother tried to explain that they wanted to switch to local doctors, and Dr Millet said "It's only 20 minutes up the road, and you've been driving it for 20 years!" She asked if Mother wanted her to finish the appointment; of course Mother said yes, since she already had drops in her eyes. The doc didn't say anything about Mother making another appointment. I told Mother that I would definitely be looking for another Doc, but Mother says everyone she knows sees this woman and likes her. The local paper does one of those "Best of" things, and this doc has taken "Best eye doctor" for umpteen years.... till this year. This year? Her ex-husband won. Heh. Mother is afraid to go to him, though, because what if she doesn't like him? And of course Dr Millet would know because it's such a small town, and then Mother wouldn't be able to go back to her.

Can I just say how seriously fucked this is? Who ever heard of a doctor chewing a patient out for seeing another doctor? And telling someone who is 87 years old they don't need local doctors but should go to one farther away?

I did tell Mother that I would be seriously concerned about Daddy driving to Lexington. I repeated it several times, with emphasis on seriously. I would be completely horrified to learn that he attempted such a thing. They're both so damned independent that they won't ask anyone else to take them unless Daddy is totally incapacitated.

I am so indignant that I am tempted to call the doctor myself. Except of course, then Mother couldn't go back to her again. I hate small towns. This kind of crap is why.


luciab: (Default)
Susan Arthur

February 2011



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