To kill or not to kill, it's not really an option

Mom (Grandma Jewkes) can be a real pain. Maybe in awhile I will look back on these times with fondness, but right now remembering my lack of remorse while I strangle her seems more likely.

She spiral-broke her fibula just above the ankle. For those of us who are physiologically challenged, that means that she twisted her foot (she stepped on a 6 inch square of frozen snow), the bone broke diagonally, she fell down on her knee (bruised now but not broken), rolled over in the ice-crusted snow (that patch was maybe 18 inches) in a great deal of pain, went to the medical center (the only medical facility within 60 miles of Green River, Utah), had an x-ray (3 actually), now wears a boot (that she claims weighs at least 100 pounds) and can't remember why her leg hurts, why she isn't in her house, why she can't see Rita every day and why she has to use a wheelchair.

She did well the three days she spent with me at my house. She did amazingly well getting to my house. Tim helped me get her to here from Green River (a 41/2 hour drive if there are no stops for food, gas, potty or visits with grandchildren) and she was a trooper. She didn't complain about the ride, the traffic, and that she had to leave her house. She didn't ask for food, drink or even a potty stop. It was easy to have a conversation with Mom while confined to the cramped space of the cab in Tim's truck because I only had to talk about one, two or three subjects. For this trip they were how beautiful Kim (my niece) is, how Rita (my sister-in-law) cried when we left Green River, and how cute Tim is ("but we can't let him hear because he will get a big head," she whispered each time.) He couldn't hear anyway because he conveniently left his hearing aides in his briefcase which was buried under all of Mom's stuff in the bed of the truck.

While she was here at the house she sat in her recliner and watched out my front window. Gary (the neighbor across the street) worked on his diesel truck for those three day and she found that very interesting. She worried about the fact that he wasn't at work and that it is very cold in Hyrum; she asked several times what his last name is and how he was ever going to get his truck out of the snow; but worried about Rita and whether or not she would ever get to see her again only occassionally. (If you are getting way too bored go ahead and jump to the end and find out why I want to strangle her.)

We giggled a lot getting her into bed. My bed is very tall so she had to lean against it, gingerly put her feet into the seat of the wheelchair and push herself up onto the bed using her good leg and elbow. We laughed as she sat up to my kitchen table in her wheelchair (my table is very tall also) and ate her dinner with her chin barely level with the top of the table. She was good company until . . .

Her third night here she forgot about her non-weight bearing bone break. Actually, she forgot about the break at all got herself out of bed and into the bathroom. She finally called for me after she had been sitting in there for I do not know how long. I jumped off the couch where I had been "heavily" sleeping and hurried into the bedroom but she wasn't there. Sitting in the dark on the commode, she called to me again, "Why does my foot hurt?" She had exhausted herself and it took us over a half of an hour to get her back into bed.

Yesterday, she fell trying to get herself from her beautiful new sofa (the one I bought for her new apartment at Legacy House) into her wheelchair. Then last night when I went back to Legacy after dinner, I found her in the bathroom, sitting on the commode taking the boot off her leg. "It is too heavy," she whined to me in her best 5 year old voice when I asked her in my very patient, adult scream, "What the h--l are you doing?! Why the @%$&* didn't you use your call button?!!" She had walked from her living room into the bathroom by herself and had decided that she would take the boot holding her broken bone in place off and go to bed. She refuses to use her call button. . .

I love her and am so grateful for these last couple of years. We have finally gotten close and I know she loves me. She is going to be 85 next Friday. We are going to have cake and ice cream at the Legacy House in Logan, room 226.

Brian, this story is about Grandma Jewkes, not me. But it may give you something to look forward to.