“bug off”

“oh, just bug off”

yeah, she actually told me to “bug off”. we had been knitting in the den, talking about recent medical events and her understanding of what happened.

i know i am tired and emotional and hypersensitive because i am offended. i also know this territory from years of experience.

i shut down. i was silent. i quit talking and attempting to engage in conversation. i quit watching her, quit reading the environment. i quit listening and paying attention. i left her alone, put on a non responsive, passive, happy face while she put on lipstick and jewelry, spraying hairspray everywhere but towards her head so that we could go to the dining room for dinner looking good.

after days of caregiving. after hours in the middle of the night in the emergency room and days driving to and from the hospital. after going here, then there, over there, then back again at the ring of the cell phone. after listening to someone pontificate from ignorance comparing an intestinal bleed to a valve in a hydraulic leak. after figuring out she meant chow mien not spaghetti. after sharing doctor recommendations to drink more water and eat more fruits and vegetables, and no, orange juice does not meet that criteria. and after the crazy making response that exercise and new underwear will resolve pain issues, i heard those words spewed towards me.

truth is:

i am bugged. i am sad. and i want a mom.

One thought on ““bug off”

  1. Dearest Anne. And I wanna be your mom and hold you and convince you that there is nothing but love and more love surrounding you. There is comfort and shelter and the “everything is gonna be ok” assurance that you have given me time and time again. I ache with you for this particular pain, that I cannot even imagine. Forever yours, B

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