The Daily Phone Gauntlet: Part 1 ...
Carer's Chronicle
The Telephone: A Lifeline or a Noose?
Ah, the telephone. That ever-present tether to my mother, delivering a minimum of five calls a day. Each call kicks off in the same grating manner, with a stern "You need to" or a probing "Why are you." This week has been particularly testing, thanks to the delightful chest infection gifted by my daughter, via my ex-wife. As the infection stealthily took hold, my early morning CrossFit sessions began to feel like attempts at breathing underwater.
By Friday, my daughter had gone to her mother’s for a few days, and by Sunday, I was in rough shape. Saturday’s grocery run to my mother’s (complete with face mask) was a predictable circus of grievances. “You’re ruining my life by restocking my fridge,” she proclaimed, as if keeping her fed was some diabolical scheme. “I’ve always been independent. Stop trying to steal that from me,” she insisted, ignoring the irony of needing help for daily tasks.
Today’s final straw came when she asked, “How would you feel if someone did this to you?”
My response, dripping with incredulity, was, “How would I feel if someone cared about me enough to go out when they're sick, buy my favourite items, and hand-deliver them? I’d feel bloody grateful!” This blend of irony was, of course, completely lost on her.
I told her I was unwell and didn’t want to risk making her sick. I also mentioned that my fever had drained any patience I might have had, so it was best I leave. She tried to persist in her complaining, but I calmly stood up and left. Before departing, I stuffed £50 into her purse out of sight, ensuring she had cash for her twice-daily outings with her carers—remarkable women with the patience of saints who visit for a combined total of three hours a day.
In the end, I suppose the telephone serves as both lifeline and noose. It keeps us connected, but sometimes, just sometimes, I wish the line could be a little less effective!