Edge of a Scream

At the height of my Garland craze, back in the 50s or 60s, there was an article in one of the movie magazines that I was hooked on, about Judy Garland.  I have read lots and lots and lots of articles about her over the years, but this is the title I always remember:  "Always on the Edge of a Scream."

There have been times throughout my life, for one reason or another, when I have felt that way, and today I realized that one of my big problems is that I am living every day wondering if my mother is alive or dead.  Is that overly dramatic?  Probably.  But that's how I feel.

After leaving her in such a bad state yesterday, I worried about her all the rest of the day and woke up worried about her.  I had told her I would call to remind her to take her meds.  I decided I'd wait until after lunch, since sometimes she sleeps late.

I started calling at 1 and got no answer, but if she went to lunch, it was possible she just wasn't back yet.  Between 1 and 2:15, I called her 5 times and there was never an answer.  I didn't want to call Atria to check on her, so I drove over there, certain I would find her dead.

The fact that there was no newspaper in her mail slot was a good sign that she had at least gotten up that morning.  I knocked and she answered the door.  I asked why she hadn't answered her phone and she said it had not rung.  I told her I had called her five times.

Then I noticed that her phone was not on the charger, where it should be and I looked around and couldn't find it.  I decided to call it to see if it would ring.  The phone in her bedroom rang, which she heard because she was standing near the door to the bedroom, but I could not hear it in the living room.  After a search, which she didn't understand why I was undertaking, I finally found the kitchen phone, under a stack of newspapers at her elbow.  It was dead.  Once I put it in the charger, it rang as soon as I called it.  

But when the phone rang, she held up the two remotes to the TV and told me that those hadn't rung.  I had to explain that those were for the TV and were not telephones.

She said she felt fine (though had NOT taken her meds) and she couldn't understand why I was so worried.  I made her take her pills, then stayed for awhile, but not the whole hour because we were expecting our new refrigerator to be delivered. 

As I went out to the car, I felt better knowing why she had not answered the phone and that she was alive, but it hit me that with everything I do almost every single day these days there is this cloud over my head wondering if my mother was going to die today or if she would live to "hunnert."  Not a fun way to live.

But new toys help.

Shortly after I got home, the new refrigerator was delivered, and it took such a short time to get it put in (we are not hooking up the ice maker, so all he had to do was essentially plug it in and tell me how long it would take to get cold) that I almost didn't get my iPhone camera out to take this photo as he was having Walt sign for delivery and rushing back out to his truck again.

I love it.  It's going o take a little adjustment to figure out where to put everything, since it's a bit smaller than the other one and the configuration is different, but I love having the freezer on the bottom instead of the side by side, which I grew to hate, over the years, since there just never seemed to be enough room for everything.

The nicest surprise, though was discovering that though this is a grey finish and it matches my non-magnetic stove and non-magnetic microwave, the refrigerator is magnetic and so I will be able to put (most of) my magnets back on again. Walt is disappointed.

After waiting 6 hours for the refrigerator and freezer to get cold, Walt got the shelves all untaped and in lace and then all I had to do was find where everything I had taken out was going to live in the new refrigerator.  The counter held about 1/3 of what needs to go back  The refrigerator out in the garage is filled too and that is going to be more of a challenge, but that will wait for tomorrow.