Chapter 10: Testing, Testing…

February 2023

I am very grateful that my family doctor has agreed to see mom. I love our family doctor – he is incredibly kind, patient, and gentle. I’ve already told him that I’m not entirely sure what we’re supposed to do here…but we clearly need someone to help us understand what is happening. So, I’ve taken the afternoon off work and I’ve come with mom to see him and figure out…something…?

The visit started off normally enough. But then things got weird. One of the clinic assistants came in and started to ask mom some awful questions – like, do you know what day it is? Do you know what city you’re in? What year is it? How humiliating! This isn’t the kind of thing where mom is struggling, what on earth are stupid questions like supposed to prove to anyone? Mom is taking this surprisingly well. If anyone ever asked me stupid questions like that, I’d be ready to lose it. Mom was never one to make a scene, though. I suppose some things never change. Always the perfect lady…I don’t know how she does it.

After completely that particular round of torture, the clinic assistant took mom into a separate room while I continued to answer a number of questions the doctor had about recent behaviours. I didn’t like this at all – not one bit.

When mom came back from the room, the doctor had to leave for a bit. To have a conference with the clinic assistant, I suppose – out of our earshot? That can’t be a good sign. I asked mom what she did in the other room. Apparently she was given a pencil and a paper and told to figure out how to get out of one of those puzzle maps that you often find on the children’s menu at a restaurant. Great. More humiliation. Mom is not a child, she is having trouble remembering things. Now I’m getting mad. Do these people even know what they’re doing?

I didn’t have enough time to really work myself up into a rage though, because the doctor came back into the room almost right away. He said that he’s going to make a referral for mom into the geriatric clinic at the Glenrose Rehabilitation Hospital. Apparently he is ordering some scans of mom’s brain to cheque for something called plaque. I guess like on the teeth…except much worse. Well – that’s sobering. But at least that sounds like a proper, grown-up way to go about figuring out what’s happening here. Better than these idiotic questions that don’t seem to be designed to do anything except prove that mom really is smarter than a kindergartener. I mean – come on, people. She has a Master’s degree in English Literature and used to teach university! Show some respect, please.

At least the appointment is over. Mom is going to come back to my house for the afternoon – the kids will be home from school soon. Not sure how I’m going to explain this to dad. I don’t think he will be too impressed by what went on here this afternoon. Actually, it’s probably better that I was the one with mom rather than him. He would definitely not have been happy with the clinic nonsense.

Ok. So mom is now accepted for routing into “the system.” I suppose I should feel better that we are doing something. But somehow I have the feeling that this is just the first time I’m going to be hearing things about which I’ll wish I had actually remained ignorant. This seems to be getting real. And I’m not here for it. What are we going to do?

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