Yesterday was weird — morning mass, bloodwork for me, renewal of a prescription, an echocardiogram for Maw and then the doctor’s followup. I had taken my naps inside Paw’s Mazda while waiting for the last three activities of that day. After driving off homebound, Maw needed to crap. So I made a U-turn and parked in the handicapped zone until they finished. During lunch today, Maw reported to me that Paw was losing his mind. He had hurriedly ran into the elevator, thinking that Maw had an appointment!
“Sir! Hold on! We need to use the elevator!” Paw exclaimed to a stranger while waiting for Maw to come inside the elevator.
“Get out there! There is no appointment! I’m going home!” Maw hollered at him.
For a few minutes, the old man stood motionless, thought some more and figured out his goof. Both of them left the building without me knowing what had happened as I drove us home.
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Today was weird, too. Since Maw had a severe case of gout since yesterday, she needed to use the maroon-colored, aluminum cane. Again, Paw wasn’t thinking and had removed the walker from the Mazda’s trunk yesterday (as his normal habit would dictate without fail) and replaced it into the Mazda trunk again but in error because Maw needed the wheelchair instead! So the old woman struggled walking towards her appointment with the primary care physician. She struggled some more inside the DeCA with what should have been her sitting on the wheelchair.
Later on tonight, I fnished washing the dishes after dinner and Maw needed her gout pills. Paw had no idea what those were or where they were located. Maw refused to help him figure out what he should have known, had he gotten involved with her medicines and taken care of the wife. He upset both Maw and me, enough so that during lunch I hollered at him: “We are all going to die! Stop denying you are NOT old and accept that you are getting senile!”
His true, thick-skinned nature is coming out ever since we refused to allow him to slow us down with his stubbornness in 2006. In retaliation, he refused to join us in saying the rosary tonight. We sensed that his kinds really don’t care for the extra baggage of sick and disabled people and really don’t lift a finger beyond their usual routine. Anything outside of themselves and their comfort zone is disregarded — plain and simple, without much consideration to understand the necessity of showing compassion during times of need.
“I’m sorry!” Maw told me as I tucked her in for tonight. “I’m sorry for upsetting you.” Of course, I retorted unkind words because my sentiments are also thick like blood pudding, a Filipino stew, and I left the bedroom to blog this entry.
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