Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Subterfuge

I saw my mother's doctor this morning. She said "Hmmmm" a lot and took notes as I spoke.

After I described Sally's latest imagined episode with her insulting daughter and grand-daughter, she asked if my mother was depressed.

I had to admit I don't know, because my mother has stopped telling me much about her thoughts and feelings. She did admit to experiencing some depression upon her arrival in Kookytown way back when, and accepted a prescription for an anti-depressant then.

But I don't know if she's still taking that drug, as she keeps tight control over such things, and consistently refuses to let me know much about her personal life.

Anyway, the doc said she might be suffering from advancing dementia, or it could just be depression that's causing such psychotic episodes. Hard to tell which, though. Especially when my mother won't go to see the doctor.

Doc's advice, which came as no surprise, was to figure out some trick to get my mother in for a spot of medical attention. It always seems to come down to this. White lies. Sleight of hand. A ruse.

So I've made an appointment. I'll tell Sally it's time for her annual, and that the doctor's office called to remind us, and that's what prompted me to agree to the appointment on her behalf.

Certainly has nothing to do with the fact that she's hallucinating events that didn't happen. No. Not at all, mom.

It all just comes down to lying, in the end.

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