In the next month I have 7 health appointments. Yes, 7.
No, I’m not seriously ill. The truth is that only one of the appointments is mine. The other 6 are my mother’s. After years of resistance I finally convinced her to do all those exams and other things that she’s been putting off. There appointments include 4 doctors and 2 scheduled groups of exams.
I’m glad that she’s finally getting all of this done. It’s good news, really. Unless you’re her chauffeur. Because what this also means is that I have to take time away from my regular schedule (and I have a lot of meetings) to drive her there and wait with her and drive her back. And, of course, pick her up and drop her off.
I want her to be healthy. I just wish someone else could drive her.
Yes, I sound like a bad daughter … except I will take the time off to drive her. And I will make sure she follows up with the doctors. And I will make sure she takes her medication.
I don’t have children. But I do have an aging parent. I’m a caregiver, though not exactly a perfect one.