Friday, April 26, 2019

Why do I even try? Part Two

Continued from Part One...

So... I went to a play the night of the disastrous conversation in regards to potentially giving my hoarding mother my car.  I hung up rather abruptly when arrived, and when I left the Theatre I decided to call back to finish the 'conversation'.  I am low contact, but I knew this would fester into drama if I allowed it to fester.

It was nearly 10:30pm, and she stays up late, but she allowed to call to go to voicemail.  I left a message, and that was that.  Or so I thought.

I was having trouble sleeping, and I was playing around on social media when my mother's neighbor posted and asked if I was awake, and when I indicated was, she said she could not call but would text.  It was around 2am.  

My mother had called the neighbor (the one she said would not help her anymore) and got her out of bed at 12:30am.  Allegedly my mother was choking on a piece of cooked broccoli and wanted to go to the emergency department and did not want to call an ambulance.  My mother's neighbor took her, and she said my mother could not speak when she pulled up and took her in.  She had normal BP and vitals, and an Xray showed nothing.  She was annoyed that they were not going to go down her throat and 'get it' and when they asked the standard advance directive/DNR question she said "You will need to call my daughter" and went into high drama.  The neighbor quickly interjected that there was no need to call me, it was a routine question.  She stated that my mother seemed disappointed that more heroic measures were not necessary and they were not going to call me.  By this point my mother is speaking more normally, and the neighbor said she would call me in the morning.  

At 10am the neighbor called me.  She was with my mother until 3:45am, and she had to get up at 7am for work.  She took her home after the doctor (in frustration, most likely, since she refused to cough hard because she would 'aspirate into her lungs') had her drink a soda and rise up onto her tiptoes and rock back to her heels.  Miraculously it worked on the second try.  The neighbor was trying not to laugh, as she saw it for what it was, a 'GTFO of my ER' maneuver.  I explained that I knew something was going to happen, and my conversation.  She asked me to call after I had talked to my mother.  I waited until 6pm, and since she had not called, I called her.  She recounted the events of the evening, ignoring my questions and making it much more dramatic in the retelling.  

The next day I called the neighbor and verified the veracity of my mother's version.  It was exaggerated on several counts and at least one detail was fabricated.  A few days later the neighbor has not called her.  She may have burnt that bridge.

Hoarding.  No one wins.

Why do I try? Part One

Oh dear god and little fishes.  I had a stupid of monumental proportions.  And I know better... 

So as many know, I left my job as CEO in early February.  It is now 2 1/2 months later.  I took over 7 weeks off (I have not NOT worked since I was 15 years of age).  I have had immediate and enthusiastic response to my applications for the most part, and I am a final candidate for a job that would take me to the other coast, 3000 miles away.  I have shared this with my hoarding mother.  She resumes talking about herself without missing a beat.  

So... I am flying out there to see if it is the right fit.  Yes, moving far from my friends will be hard, but I have been wanting a change.  If I do accept, I will most likely be moving mid June or July at the latest.  If I accept, I have several considerations, but the biggest is my furry family.  My newest adoption is still a cat of sizable means, she is 22lbs.  She will not fit under an airline seat, and I will not allow her to flown in the cargo hold.  My other kitty is 17 years old and the flight would really freak her out.  

Now, there is a minor complication driving.  I have a luxury sports sedan, although it is not too old, I have driven the crap out of it, it has over 140K on it.  I am not concerned about mileage as it should run to 300K easily, but it is small, and has no towing capacity.  I would need to take a friend with me and there simply will not be enough room.  I also need rotors, brakes, and sensor, and the next service that will be nearly $2000 in maintenance and repairs.  It is a car that is worth $5200.

I found a SUV that is by the same make as my car.  It is used, certified and has a 10 year warranty that is unlimited mileage and transfers to whatever dealership I choose.  I put a deposit on the SUV.  It is refundable, so I am not out anything if things fall through.  Now, what to do with my car?  I could trade it in, but I would just be giving it to them to wholesale and it is a great car, a pretty car, and in super shape.  My hoarding mother's aging Honda had a valve leak, and required expensive repairs.  It is a $500 car.  My car is one that is known for extreme safety.  

So I called her and let her know the recent developments, and if things work out, I would do the service and maintenance of my car and give it to her.  She would not have to do ANYTHING but accept it.

OH HELL, THE CRAZINESS THAT ENSUED.  She responded by saying (screaming):
  • She does not know how long she will driving anyway because she cannot get to a new doctor to get her cataract surgery (she backed out of her last surgery 3 hours before).  
  • She feels that her memory is diminished and that she is sure she had a stroke a while ago.
  •  She has no one to help her, she used to to depend on the neighbor but 'that has all changed big time'.
  • She is sure (a different) neighbor is trying to kill her.
Then she went on the offensive.  Rapid fire accusations, insinuations, and questions-masquerading-as-attacks:
  • She demanded to know why I could not get a job where I am (that she has never visited, and she has refused to see me since 4/2013).
  • She demanded why my best friend or 'all my contacts' could not give me a job.
You get the idea.  I got off the phone.

Later, she ended up in the emergency room.  It was manufactured drama, and I will report that in Part 2....

To be continued...