I am completely sure that, after today, I can draw a crazy check. My phone rang this morning a little after eight. It was Grandmother. She was freaking out because she had a doctor's appointment at 9:40 and no one had called to say they were on their way to get her. Grant was getting a tire fixed, so I jerked on my clothes from last night, threw my hair in a pony tail, and took off to Baldwyn to grab Grandmother and fly to Tupelo. I put on my makeup in the rear view mirror while dodging traffic and road construction and made it to the doctor with ten minutes to spare. We walked up to the receptionist's desk, signed in, and sat down. A few minutes later, the receptionist called us back to her desk and told us that…..wait for it….. her appointment was at 1:40, not 9:40 and we couldn't be worked it before then. Grandmother turned to me and said, "Grant thought it was 1:40. I guess he was right." OMG! I plastered a smile on my face, turned, and headed for the elevator.
We got back in the car and headed to my house to wait until time to go back to the doctor. I tried to make use of the few hours I had to call clients and catch up on my paperwork (I was already WAY behind because of vacation). Grandmother took a spot on the couch across from me and …… stared…. at me …… the whole time. I tried to divert her attention to tv, pictures, you name it, to no avail. I fixed her some lunch while I completed her paperwork for the doctor visit and we loaded back up to our scheduled appointment.
We walked back into the doctor's office …..and waited…… and waited …….. and waited. The longer we waited, the more anxious Grandmother got. She had to go to the bathroom. Then she started having chest pains and shortness of breath. She took a nitro pill. I finally went up to the desk (We are at the two hour waiting mark now.) and told the receptionist, "She's going to have a heart attack and/or a panic attack if ya'll don't get her in a room, so please come up with a room or place for her to lay down before we have to leave here and go to the hospital." They put us in a room and ….. you guessed it ……We waited again. At 2:45 the doctor came in the room. By this time, Grandmother had developed leg cramps and was doing toe touches, leg circles, and, for the finale for the benefit of the doctor, leg lunges. She already had her pants pulled up to her knees to show me the 'skin cancers' that had migrated from her head to her legs in the past week (It was 'eating her alive'), so imagine a 90 year old miniature sized lady, with her pants rolled up, lunging back and forth in this cube of a room, hands on her hips, moaning and occasionally grabbing her chest for emphasis.
The doctor took one look and said, "Just do whatever you feel like while I ask these questions," and proceeded to play 20 questions as grandmother lunged and I hid behind my arm and looked at the ceiling. Every time the DIGESTIVE DOCTOR stopped for a breath, Grandmother would throw a "What does this rash look like to you?" or a "If my chest hurts across here, what does that mean?" at her. The doctor kept saying, "I only deal with the tummy, so I'm not sure….." but that wasn't the answer Grandmother was looking for, so she pressed on for answers. The reason we were supposed to be there was because Grandmother had stomach cramps and diarrhea that was 'like water' for more than a week.
Just in the nick of time, Grandmother needed to take a potty break. The minute she went out the door, I whispered furiously to the doctor, "She has anxiety and I'm not saying that's her problem totally, but part may be anxiety, but if you say the word "anxiety" in front of her, she will flog you and me both, so please don't use THE A WORD! The doctor whispered back, "I'm glad you told me because I suspect IBS that is flaring due to anxiety, but I will do some tests just to make sure it's not bacteria." In the middle of our frenzied whispers, Grandmother opened the door and shut it back. The doctor looked at me with deer in the headlights eyes and mouthed, "Do you think she heard us?" I laughed and said, "No, she's deaf too, so you're good." Grandmother came back in and the doctor began telling her about the tests she would undergo. She tried to slip out "IBS" and "Nerves" but Grandmother pounced and screamed, "I don't have anxiety! My heart doctor said I don't have anxiety. I have a heart issue!!" Boy, that doctor backpedaled quickly and went back to talking about tests. Grandmother kept ranting, "I know theres something wrong that's going to kill me. I need to be in the hospital but y'all can't seem to figure out what it is but I know its something." I hid under my arm and stared at the ceiling again.
The doctor finally got to escape and sent in a tech. The tech gave Grandmother a cup to catch a watery stool in and said to bring it back the next morning. We checked out and got back in the car. Grandmother turned to me and said, "I can't just have diarrhea on command. I haven't had any since I took Pepto Bismol Saturday night, but maybe I can eat some corn, that's what caused it last time, and have some more." ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!?!?!?! It's now 4:30, my head is splitting open, I've spent an entire day at the doctor, and you don't have diarrhea right now? I looked at her and said, "Well, whatever you have to do, you better do it because there better be diarrhea in that cup when I pick you up in the morning." Yep, this, ladies and gentlemen, is a statement that I never thought would come out of my mouth. I have resorted to intimidation to force a 90 year old woman to poop watery stool in a cup, and if THAT can't get me a crazy check, nothing can.
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