The Good Daughter...

Otherwise known as...  Know your peppers!

My mom had a cyst taken off her right foot earlier this summer (and has a hard time negotiating crutches) which rendered her incapable of doing much of anything on her feet for about two weeks.  When I went to her follow-up appointment after the surgery, she asked the doctor about taking off a bunion and correcting a badly-healed scar on the bottom of her left foot.  The doctor told her, We're talking about major surgery here.... What you've just been through will be a walk in the park compared to how long you'll have to be off your feet for the next surgery.  You're looking at about a month off of your feet.  Mom said she understood, but being that she has the summer off from her job as a crossing guard just a few blocks from the school where I work, she was eager to go ahead and have the procedure.  She's tired of having pain in her feet.  I don't blame her.  She works on the busiest street corner in my small town, safely crossing children while traversing six lanes of busy traffic, whistle in her mouth, big red stop sign in her hand.  Whenever I see my mom at work I am overcome by feelings of admiration and absolute terror.  She is very good at her job, but no one wants to see their mother in that kind of danger.

I went home and told my dad that I loved him and Mom, but I could not spend my entire summer taking care of Mom.  I would go crazy, and be no good to anyone once the school year started.  Dad nodded in agreement.  I moved out about a week later, knowing that when Mom needed me, I would be there.  That's what I do.  I am... The Good Daughter. 

My mother's second foot surgery of the summer took place yesterday morning.  My dad has been missing a lot of work for his chemotherapy treatment, and so I offered to drive Mom to Orlando for the surgery, and stay with her at least until he came home from work.  We had to be in Orlando at 6 a.m.  Mom wanted me to spend the night at their place Thursday night, but I stood my ground and stayed in my own bed in my lovely new place.  I needed a bit of relaxation and peace before I took on the role of caregiver.  I am so glad I did.

I set my alarm for 4 a.m. on Thursday night before I went to bed.  When the alarm went off, I promptly got up and got ready, arriving at my folks' house at exactly 5 a.m., which was the appointed pick-up time.  It took Mom 3 attempts to leave the house.  First she needed a sweater, then she needed her crutches... finally... I don't remember what the last item was... but she unlocked the door and retrieved it while I waited patiently in the car.  At 5:15, we actually left the development, arriving at the surgical center about ten minutes early.  The nurse let us in, and we chatted while waiting for Mom to be brought back into pre-op.  I couldn't wait-- I was STARVING.  The nurse told me she would be taking Mom back at 6:30, and requested that I return by 7 a.m., which is when her operation was starting.  There was an Einstein's up the street, so I jetted, grabbed a bagel sandwich and a medium hazelnut coffee, and was back in 15 minutes. 

The next patient came in with her husband, and I talked with them, and read the Real Simple magazine I had brought with me.  Before long, the nurse came out and said I could see my mom.  When I walked back, she was sitting in a brown oversized recliner, foot elevated, wrapped in a blanket, drinking cranberry juice, shivering. 

It was quite cold in that building.  I was glad I the foresight to bring a sweater with me.  I had the nurse bring Mom another blanket, which she wrapped over her head.  She looked like an eskimo.  A frail, pale, post-surgical, blonde eskimo.  It was incredibly endearing.  She's my mom... I do love her so. 

A short time later, I was able to take Mom home, carefully placing her in the Scion's backseat with the nurse's assistance.  I asked her if she'd like to listen to 50s music-- she did.  (Did I really need to ask?)  When I got her home, Mom used the washroom, got into bed, and stayed there most of the day.  I brought her a half of a sandwich around 2, and then Dad came home at 4.  At one point Mom rolled over onto her glasses and popped one of the lenses out of the frame.  I told her when Dad got home I'd run to Wal-mart to get them taken care of... but Oprah was on when Dad came home and the program was about children with serious mental illnesses and how their families coped... it was very interesting to me because of my profession as a school counselor, and my experience working in that capacity in elementary schools for 6 years.  The glasses task was waylaid.  When Mom reminded me, we thought it was too late, and I pledged to take care of them this morning, which I did.

Dad let us know that Julio, my friend Jessica's boyfriend and Dad's favorite man under 40, was on his way over.  I love Julio.  He is very strong, and sweet, and very, very good to my dad.  He's done a number of odd jobs around my parents' home, and before he begins to work, he and my dad sit down on the back porch, watch the birds and the golfers, and drink copious amounts of coffee.  They sit and talk about Jessica, me, my mom, and life in general.  I truly believe that Julio is the son my dad never had, and their bond is very special.  I am glad that Julio is in our lives.  We are all better for it.  He and Jessica have been together for about four years.  (They met shortly after they moved in across the street from each other.)  Last night he asked me how things were going with Jerry, and I said we were fine, but we both had things to take care of this weekend.  Julio looked at me, then my dad, and said, You know, I like him a lot... but if things don't work out, you need to find a Puerto Rican.  We are strong, we love family, we are hard workers, and we love women!  I told Julio I appreciated his input and I would keep that in mind.

Julio is a good big brother.  I am glad he is looking out for me.  And my dad.  And Jessica. 

Then my dad brought up the banana pepper plant that is outside.  I bought this plant at the flea market last spring, and was astounded when it continued to produce peppers this year.  I had never eaten one of the peppers, not having any time to pickle them properly... They have recently all turned bright red.  Dad told Julio that he could have a few of the peppers, so I followed him outside, he picked one, and took a bite. 

It's HOT, Jennifer!
It's can't be that hot, it's a banana pepper!!! 

I took a bite.  It WAS hot!  Julio took another bite.  That's when we both raced for the kitchen.  I immediately poured us both glasses of milk.  Then two more.  Then I went for the loaf of bread, which is also supposed to neutralize heat.  My mouth was tingly, and hot, and I kept asking Julio if he was okay.  NO, I am NOT OKAY!  I am not OKAY!!! 

Julio kept repeating how not okay he was, so we returned to the couch, and shared the last beer, and Dad kept feeding us plum tomatoes from his tomato vine, which helped as well.  Finally, when the beer was just about finished, and I was laughing hysterically at the comedy of the situation... Julio looked at me, and then at the bottle, and said, Now I know your secrets, and you know mine.  Apparently this is what Puerto Rican men say when you've shared a drink. 

It was a pepper to remember.  I photographed it for posterity.  And then naturally shared the picture on Facebook.  What else would one do with a half-eaten shared habanero???

Julio left not long after that, and I retired to the guest room to read my magazine and get a good night's sleep.  After all, I'd been up since four in the morning! 

I woke up this morning fairly refreshed, showered, and set out to do battle at Wal-mart.  I pictured the optical department overrun with upset people needing glasses.  It was actually empty.  The employee told me to come back in ten minutes and the glasses would be good as new... so I went off in search of the other task for my shopping outing:  an air purifier for my parents' bedroom.  I located one with another employee's assistance, who carried the purifier up to the carts for me, placed it in a cart, and told me that I could pay for it in the optical department when I picked up Mom's glasses.  Score!  I was in and out of Wal-mart, having accomplished two important tasks in fifteen minutes.  It was nothing short of a miracle!

After my shopping jaunt I came home and did the breakfast dishes, took a quick outing with my dad to look at Highwaymen art and go to Publix, and I've been making sure Mom is comfortable.  I've let both of my parents know that I will be off duty tomorrow, as I have plans to meet friends in Orlando for brunch in the morning.  Also, my parents are having friends over for blueberry pancakes.  If they are well enough to invite friends over, they are no longer in need of... The Good Daughter.