I called dad's doctor today to discuss whether he should be driving, and any possible effect all of the medication he's taking could have on his ability to react in an emergency situation. The person that answered the phone asked me what my call was pertaining to and I told her. I also asked that she not tell dad I called. I explained that he would not be happy if he knew I was talking to his doctor. "We understand," she lied effortlessly. She explained the doctor didn't like to have these types of discussions over the phone, but took my number just in case he wanted to call back.
I was leaving the office after a really pissy day when my cell rang. As soon as I saw dad's name my stomach dropped, and I had a powerful urge to toss the phone into the garbage I passed on my way out the door. But I didn't. "Did you call my doctor?" Dad asked. I gulped and tried to use my "I'm grown up now and you don't scare me" voice. It would have worked too if I'd been able to get the words out of my mouth. Whatever sound came out he took as an affirmative. Dad said, "He asked me to come in tomorrow to discuss my driving." If his voice had been a knife, I would have been bleeding all over the sidewalk.
"I called to discuss the safety of your driving dad. That's all." Silence. "I'm worried about you." Last part was in my "love you dadi" voice. Didn't work. "If they tell me I can't drive, I will not go to one more doctor's appointment." I felt cold inside. "Do you hear me?" I tried to swallow. "Yeah dad. I hear you." Now it was my voice that chilled. Out of pure unadulterated stubbornness you'd cause harm to yourself or worst, and leave me to live with that guilt? I didn't ask it, but I felt it.
When I opened the front door and walked into the house he was on the phone talking to Debbie. I'd called my Uncle Ernie on the way home to warn him of current events and he advised I should not be confrontational with dad, go about business as usual, so I did. No yelling. I went into the kitchen to start cleaning. Dad talks loud and he didn't bother to lower his voice for my benefit. "You can't trust family," he was saying. "But I'll get a lawyer. If my doctor tells me I can't drive I'll leave here. That's what I'll do." The voice on the phone uh huh'ed him. I filled the sink with water and pulled a plate out of the suds. "People always saying they're trying to help you. Meanwhile you can't trust 'em. It's sad really." By this time I'd washed most of the dishes and irritation had settled on my face in the form of a frown. A deep frown, that really hurt my face. But my heart hurt worst. And he went on. "Charlie says, it's family you gotta watch out for the most." Dad's always saying 'somebody says' as a reliable resource. "Charlie says..." Nobody ever really knows if my uncle Charlie really said this or that. "The guy at the grocery store said..." Uh huh. "Little Boe Peep said..." Yeah right. Anyway, I wiped the counters, then emptied the garbage bags and took them outside. When I got back he was off the phone. I asked him if he wanted me to bring his pills to him. He said no. "Do you need anything before I go upstairs?" Again, he said no. I started up the stairs, then stopped and turned around.
"Dad," I said. "You don't need to hire any attorneys, you don't need to move out of your house. And tomorrow when you see your doctor just tell him you've got a nosy daughter who doesn't know how to mind her own business. "I'll certainly tell him that," he snapped. I was tired, but I continued. "I called your doctor because I was concerned. But you don't have to worry about me getting in your business anymore. I'm done." Very calm, didn't yell.
And I am done. I'm going home tomorrow. I don't think I'm coming back. At least not in my current frame of mind.
So that's how my day went.
No comments:
Post a Comment