It was not her best day. When I entered Dolores’ home, Pamela was in the living room, sipping a very large glass of brandy while talking and laughing loudly on her cell phone. She gestured to me to go to the back of the apartment, where Dolores’ bedroom was.
I found Dolores sitting on the edge of her bed resting her elbows on her knees, shaking her head, and staring blankly at her clasped hands. Upon assessment, her heart rate was elevated, she was having significant abdominal pain, and she had been coughing blood all morning.
I called her doctor’s office to notify them; they asked if she could come into the office that day.
I walked into the living room and stood patiently in front of Pamela while she continued to speak on her phone until she said, “Hold on one second, the physical therapist wants to tell me something.”
I informed Pamela that the physician’s office was asking to see her mother in the office today. Pamela said that she was unable because, “I have already started this…” (swirling the remaining 5 ounces of brandy in her large glass).
As I was walking away, I overheard her say, “Sorry about that, Mom started coughing blood today and she started stressin’ and now her heart rate it up. You know how she is…”
Relationships are complicated.