Friday, January 22, 2010

Surreality


Life's been feeling rather surreal lately. I think the rain storms have a lot to do with it. My biorhythms are not used to being damp and soggy. Like I said before, the entire landscape looks completely alien. A goddamned  tornado touched down in Scottsdale late last evening.

I also changed my first adult diaper last night. My poor old mom was out in the storm picking up my (THIRTY-EIGHT YEAR OLD) brother from school last night. He can't drive because he's hopped up on pain pills. He's hopped up on pain pills because he has a PERI-ANAL ABSCESS.

My aunt, who is crippled by dementia, lives with my elderly parents. I felt the need to be a good daughter and help mom out. She does so much for everyone and gets nothing in return. I washed all of her dishes and then got adventurous. I was going to put my aunt to bed so she wouldn't have to when she got home.

My dad yelled at me from the couch, scotch in hand, sneakers squealing on the court in the background, and told me not to meddle and that I didn't know what I was doing. "I'M HELPING! YOU SHOULD TRY IT SOMETIME! YOU HAVE ARMS, DON'T YOU?!?" R shot me a glance and I immediately felt guilty for getting testy.

There she was, tiny, sunken into the recliner, bony legs flailing in an involuntary pattern. I pried her frail body out of the chair and made her stand up. We shuffled to the bathroom and I pulled down her diaper, revealing a sad, saggy bottom. I was floored by the stench of stewing, hot, adult urine.

I also discovered that within the diaper is a big maxi pad like thing. I only had the shell. I pulled the diaper back up and we shuffled back to the bedroom to look for the missing piece. Found it.

Shuffled again. Down again. Floored again. Pulled up fresh diaper only to realize that it was on backwards. Down again. Up again. There. Done. My first adult diaper changed. I had an eerie feeling it woudn't be the last.

p.s. Oops! I totally didn't mean to write about diapers! What I meant to write about was a) the rain & b) how I dreamed about cheeseburgers last night. Three distinct dreams, three distinct burgers.

10 comments:

  1. You are a good niece and daughter. And blogger.

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  2. i agree with raina, good for you.
    s.

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  3. Every day at work I am grateful that I'm not a nurse.

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  4. a sweet delicateness in what you reveal about your life and family. brave blogger, daughter, and niece. possible prepping for babies and not even knowing it? (the anti- always make great mothers.)

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  5. the rain is throwing me, too. I can handle it when I'm in, say, VANCOUVER. but five days of rain in LA is driving me over the edge.

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  6. I meant to comment on this earlier, but I can't quite describe what I wanted to say. Something about those selfless, caring acts (especially when you surprise yourself by wanting to do them) being the most important things or part of the most important exchanges ever, even if they don't seem like it at the time. I had lots of similar (tho admittedly less TMI-ish!) experiences with my grandmother in the last few years of her life. I am so glad I was there to do it.

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  7. It's unmistakable that I'm experiencing severe problems with my laptop. I swear I left a comment earlier and I see now that it wasn't posted. Well, I agree with the above comments...this post reveals your selflessness and the consideration you have for your family. You ARE a great daughter, niece and blogger. xo

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  8. i can feel you. this year is really starting weird.
    we have kind of an endless snowy freezin winter over here,
    always dark...freaks me out. and all my plans just crashed:
    boom. i am waiting for better times, answers, solutions.

    it really seems you are a great daughter, i am trying to be one too,
    right now. i am not sure how i am doing.

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  9. Now you just need a condescending Ukrainian nanny to stroke you on the back and say, "What you did today, that was love."

    Oh, I just love it when life mirrors Sex and the City.

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The divine PB&J in me, salutes the divine PB&J in you.