Monday, August 29, 2005
Thank the gods for short term memory loss!
While she was petting The Little Girl (our cat) Friday evening, my mother leaned over in an awkward manner and twisted her knee. I was at her side before she collapsed. I thought her back might have "grabbed", considering her position, but she confirmed that it was her knee and limped to her chair with my considerable help. I immediately retrieved her knee support bandage and slipped it in place. She made a few trips around the house for reasons she considered necessary that evening but limped markedly and became acutely annoyed with my constant physical support. I know that she wasn't faking it. If anything, when my mother is sick and/or debilitated she attempts to fake wellness.
Considering the position in which she sleeps, which regularly produces temporary pressure bruises on her knees, I was more than a little concerned for her knee's welfare on Saturday morning. Before she'd hoisted herself to the edge of the bed I'd retrieved her knee bandage for her trek to the bathroom.
"Is your knee bothering you?" she asked me.
"No, Mom, your knee is bothering you."
She looked at me as though I had arrived from one of her alternate quantum realities. "No, it's not. Why should it?"
"Well, you twisted it last night when you were leaning over to pet The Little Girl. Don't you remember?"
"No." She swung her right leg, the weakest of her legs and the one she turned, from the knee a couple of times. "It feels fine. Are you sure it wasn't you who twisted your knee?"
So saying, she refused the knee bandage and maneuvered into the bathroom without any hitches in any giddy-ups. "My knee, you say, hmmmm," she commented suspiciously when I joined her.
"Mom, why would I make up an injury?!?"
"Well, I don't know, why would you?!?"
"Well," I said, "all I can say is, thank the gods for short term memory loss. What wonders of healing loss of memory can accomplish!"
She laughed. Then, to my surprise, she responded, "I think you've got something there. If I remembered all my little aches and pains from day to day, I probably wouldn't be here."
She might have a point.
Considering the position in which she sleeps, which regularly produces temporary pressure bruises on her knees, I was more than a little concerned for her knee's welfare on Saturday morning. Before she'd hoisted herself to the edge of the bed I'd retrieved her knee bandage for her trek to the bathroom.
"Is your knee bothering you?" she asked me.
"No, Mom, your knee is bothering you."
She looked at me as though I had arrived from one of her alternate quantum realities. "No, it's not. Why should it?"
"Well, you twisted it last night when you were leaning over to pet The Little Girl. Don't you remember?"
"No." She swung her right leg, the weakest of her legs and the one she turned, from the knee a couple of times. "It feels fine. Are you sure it wasn't you who twisted your knee?"
So saying, she refused the knee bandage and maneuvered into the bathroom without any hitches in any giddy-ups. "My knee, you say, hmmmm," she commented suspiciously when I joined her.
"Mom, why would I make up an injury?!?"
"Well, I don't know, why would you?!?"
"Well," I said, "all I can say is, thank the gods for short term memory loss. What wonders of healing loss of memory can accomplish!"
She laughed. Then, to my surprise, she responded, "I think you've got something there. If I remembered all my little aches and pains from day to day, I probably wouldn't be here."
She might have a point.
