The things one inherits...

SelenaWolf

My mother and I share a few notable things.  Along with breast cancer, we have the same perverted, dark sense of humour. Which means that, after years of working at a cemetery, my perverted, dark sense of humour has been finely honed into something truly twisted and weird.

Anyway, mother had a very mild stroke in June 2013, from which she has recovered beautifully; however, a contraindication between her BP meds and a new medication has caused her heart to slow down and, even, skip up to four beats at a time. This has been cause for concern. The cardiologist tried halving the dose of the one medication, but it didn’t improve things. She needs to take this med, so it was decided to give her a pace-maker, so that she could continue to take the med safely.

Last Thursday, we’re at the hospital for her pre-operative consultation. She had blood tests (fine), and EKG (fine), and a consultation with a nurse practitioner to go over the procedure. The NP gave us an information booklet about pacemakers and how they work, and sent us on to the next appointment (which was a consultation with the anesthesiologist).

So, there we both are, sitting side-by-each in the waiting room, which – of course – was PACKED with people, most of them elderly like my mother. I’m flipping through the booklet, reading, when I get to the part where it says that, if you have a pacemaker and you intend to be cremated (which my mother has already prearranged), your family needs to inform the crematorium ahead of time because, if the pacemaker is not removed prior to the cremation, IT COULD EXPLODE.

I honestly couldn’t help myself. I started to sputter and choke. Several old ladies (and a few old men) scowled at me. I sputtered harder. My mother gave me that “look” (you know, the one that can still freeze you in your boots even when you’re as old as I am), then curiosity prevailed and she asked me what was making me make those “… ghastly noises…” Lowering my voice, I read her the paragraph about MAKING THE CREMATION OVEN EXPLODE. She choked, sputtered and said, “… well, I guess that puts a whole new spin on ‘going out with a bang’…” We looked at each other, blinked and started to howl. We laughed until we cried. We had to hold on to each other as we went to the anesthesiologist’s office. And the more dirty looks we got, the harder we laughed.

We were still laughing on the drive home.

Yep, I have a perverted, dark, twisted, weird sense of humour. And it’s all my mom’s fault.

[That's my story and I'm sticking to it.]

voraciousreader

Thanks so much for sharing such a wonderful story about the spectacular relationship you share with your mom!  My mom and I have 2 things in common....We both love to read AND we both love to read the same books!  I get such a delight in sharing that voracious appetite for reading  and get to experience it with her.  She is so blessed to have, at age 88,  a sharp mind and good eye sight!  As time passes, I hope I will inherit those two things from her as well!

barsco1963

Selena - What a wonderful story. I chuckled when I read the part about the oven exploding, but it was your mom's "going out with a bang" that made me laugh out loud. It is terrific that you and your mom share such a special bond. I love your sense of humour.

I would say that my mom gave me her selfless attitude and her love of life that includes all of the little things. Mom has been gone for 12 yrs now, but I am happy to say that "sometimes I open my mouth and my mother comes out"

SelenaWolf

My mother is a frustratingly stubborn woman who can drive me absolutely crazy with her sheer cussedness sometimes (I'll tell you sometime about the battle I had trying to keep her from going up-and-down the 19 basement stairs, bumping down like a baby on her bottom and climbing up on her hands and knees because "... the walker is too heavy, I've tried it..." #facepalm), but - I tell you - I want to be just like her when I'm 84 years old.  She's feisty and wickedly funny, and thoroughly unrepentent about how she's lived her life, and - until her stroke - accepted no limitations.

voraciousreader

Selena....I keep telling my kids that I've seen my future....watching my mom doing day to day tasks that would put Rube Goldberg to shame....and it ain't pretty!!!!  When I ask my mom why she has so many things, such as hangers on door knobs and other absurd contraptions hanging around her house and especially ON  her bed, she tells me, "Don't throw that away!  I need THAT!"  And then when I ask her, "What's THIS for?"  She replies, "How do you think I move that thing- of- a- majig closer to me?"  "Use the walker?" she asks when I see her ATTEMPTING to move around the house?  "YOU must be CRAZY" she adds!  Honestly, I MUST be CRAZY because she keeps calling me that when I tell her there's an easier AND less complicated AND less dangerous way of doing things....and then, when I'm with my  kids doing my own  Rube Goldberg way of doing things, they call ME CRAZY too!!! So I guess, as I edge up there in age, which I hope I do...I expect to grow crazier and crazier by the minute.....Yet another wonderful thing I am inheriting from my mother!

JJ62

I absolutely love your story SelenaWolf! Oh but to go out with a bang! :-)