Telephones

When I was in my twenties, I became involved with a guy who turned out to be a bum. He didn't pay bills, show up for work and had two kids who were in trouble all of the time. The telephone rang all the time with complaints about one of the three of them. This was long before caller ID and I dreaded hearing the phone ring.

The relationship ran it's course, but the dread of the phone calls did not. I had become conditioned to break out in a sweat whenever the phone began to ring. I spent the better part of my adult life running away from telephone.

By the time Dennis and I found each other, I had shaken off the fear of phone calls. But in the last two years, the old feelings have begun to return.

A 6:00 am phone ringing means a PCA isn't going to show up for work. This, in turn, means that I must scramble to find coverage for Dennis, or take a day off of work.

Any phone call between 8:00 and 4:00 could be either about Mother or Dennis - a fall, a tear in the skin (really, I have had a call about this), someone is going to the hospital or worse. Often, I get phone calls from Assisted Living or the Transitional Care Unit, telling me that Mother is in trouble (she and a friend were leaving the grounds to walk)or she is missing a meal or some other silly thing. Then, the bill comes at the end of the month and there is a charge for these calls! I didn't want the call in the first place, and now you are going to charge me for it?

At least these days we have caller ID and I know who is calling, if not why they are calling.

Until later,
Ann and Dennis