MAY . . .
Shallow grave for one?
The month starts well as Gina took Mum out to visit some gardens, which she enjoyed immensely. Alas she only visits supermarkets & doctors with Bob, so a welcome breath of fresh air indeed. She looked lovely as Gina pinged over this wonderful pic of Mum above.
It goes downhill from there . . .
BING! The MyChart app pings me a notification that Mum’s had new test results from the visit with the brain doc. Interestingly nothing is mentioned by Bob or Mum directly when we chat later, but the online MyChart medical records that I’m included on by the HIPAA confirm she’s now been prescribed Zoloft – an antidepressant. Oh dear. Oh my. Here we go: Boredom then sadness then beer ’n’ wine then depression then meds then madness. Here it comes, brace yourself . . .
Then – within a few minutes of reading the test results on the app the password is changed remotely. Boom. That’s it, I can’t access it any more. Interesting. I let Gina know – as she has access too & she confirms she’s also blocked out.
Sigh.
I sit on it. I mull. I pray for discernment. I pray for wisdom of how to handle this. I pray for Bob to call me to discuss.
I received nothing with the last point, natch, but a couple of days later Bob pinged over a message that Mum’s appointment was mostly meet & greet & that a three-hour comprehensive test would be done as they were interested in Mum being so physically fit but phsyologically suffering. That was it. I replied that I looked forward to hearing all about it . . .
The very next day we had our weekly family chatty; naturally after the small talk I ask how the brain docs appointment went? Mum can’t really remember & has been stressed out by the whole process but says the doc asked a lot of questions & she liked him, although he was very young. Alas everyone is very young to us all now! She confirms she wasn’t prescribed any meds & also says she has a three-hour evaluation booked in for a couple of weeks time, where they can really get to grips & try to help her properly, which is terrific news.
Ah, Houston, we have a problem. Mum denies going on any medication. Of course, this is hugely important as Mum has been off all meds since I left in January, as they were clearly (at the very least partly) responsible for the Capgras Delusion – presumably reacting with the alcohol & stress in her life & sending her off to another mental place.
Right, let’s ask Bob? Mum manages to find Bob & get him near the phone so we can finally talk properly.
‘Bob, was Mum prescribed any meds?’
‘No.’
‘Are you sure?’ I say.
‘Yes, I’m sure.’ he says. Dead pan.
‘Oh, that’s strange,’ I say, ‘As I note that Mum has been prescribed Zoloft – an antidepressant – at her appointment.’
Bob says it was for him.
Wow.
Was I born yesterday? Perhaps . . .
We bat this around a bit as he tells me it’s to help his sleeping & I simply ask why it’s on Mum’s medical records. He tells me I’ve got it wrong. I tell him he’s lying. I tell him the password on MyChart has been changed so I or Gina cannot log-in now too. Bob then confirms this & says he’ll look into it.
Then – out of nowhere – Mum pips up & says that she’s got some new little pills to take.
Gulp.
‘You’ve already got some new pills Mum?!’ I ask to confirm I’m not imagining things. ‘Yes.’ she says – and she’d already taken one . . .
Well, I lose it.
Oops.
Not lose it Lose It, just a single lose it. I throw my hands in the air & exclaim: ‘What’s the point?!’
Mum’s concerned that I’m annoyed. I tell her – as calmly as I can – that I don’t know what to do, because I see Mum has been prescribed antidepressants & I know she’s drinking beer & wine, which caused her serious issues a few months ago & both she & Bob had point blank denied that Mum was taking anything new until once questioned about it Mum admitted she was. I said I couldn’t handle being lied to. It was wrong. It was really wrong.
Mum took offence. Oh boy. I tried very calmly to repeat all & threw into the mix that Bob is her husband & should be looking after her & treating her welfare & well-being as his priority. They’d been married for 40-odd years & that she had every right to rely on Bob to help her through this season in her life, yet here he was lying to me. To my face Mum, to my face. What did she expect me to say? How did she expect me to react when faced with this? She apologied on Bob’s behalf, as naturally Bob had scuttled off & was no nowhere to be seen . . .
This is a fair & accurate representation of the conversation. Jane witnessed it too.
I left the chat wishing them both well & saying that I would always be here to support them both.
My own moral & ethical line of right vs wrong had been crossed. Not only crossed, jumped over, rubbed out & simply ignored . . .
Truly, I didn’t know where to go with it. I knew that I was never going to be fed the truth, the whole truth & nothing but the truth, but I didn’t think I’d be deceived to the extent of lying to my face & taking me off of MyChart.
I prayed & gave it all to God – again! I was instantly reminded to let Him work through me & that I should shine wherever I am, whatever I’m doing & whoever I’m with. Be like Jesus, not like Christians goes the saying – heck of an ask today . . .
Later on – a full nine hours after our chatty Bob messages to say that they had picked up some Vitamin D2 from the docs, & that there was also another prescription for Zoloft waiting. He said he’d been taking his for about a year for his sleep, & there is no interaction between D2 & Zoloft.
I’m baffled.
No, of course I’m not baffled; it’s Bob’s childlike way of trying to justify what balderdash & gibberish spouted from his dribbling lips earlier in the day. No mention of MyChart. No mention of Zoloft contraindicating with alcohol, or gas-lighting eh? Nope. Nowt.
I sleep on it. Most of me wants to cross the Atlantic right away & put him out of his misery. Part of me wants to wash my hands of the whole charade. All of me wants grace & wisdom to handle it in the best possible way for Mum. What can I do? Shout? Shut up? What?!
Mum called me the following day. Which was nice. But no, it wasn’t nice at all as it goes . . . as she was sure that I was angry with her & kept apologising. I stressed that I wasn’t angry with her, I was frustrated by the deceit & even if it was a genuine mistake by her, it was out-and-out lying by Bob, who appeared not to be putting her well-being first. Mum made many excuses for Bob & many apologies for herself. I reassured her as much as I could that we would all get through this together, & no offence had been taken as none had been given. However, I do not do lies; I do not do deceit & I will always call out any that I encounter. We managed to chatty about other subjects, & ended the call well.
I found it very poignant that – from my viewpoint – I had been lied to, deceived & given the runaround by Bob, but Mum was apologising for herself because she knew I had an issue. She didn’t seem able to accept that I had an issue with Bob. Perhaps no one stays in their lives long enough to tell her Bob is an issue?
We continue to talk every few days & I deliberately keep the chatty light & bright. It’s very shallow to be honest, but it’s life-giving to Mum who gradually stops apologising & starts laughing more & more. For me it’s imperative she enjoys our chats, otherwise what’s the point for her?