Another ride with Mrs. Martha….

Riding with my mother is always an adventure. I try my hardest to be her second set of eyes and look out for oncoming traffic. She sleeps much of her time away and I worry about it. I know it is because of the sedating effects of her Zyprexa. This can make me deeply skeptical of the so called “wonder drugs” for schizophrenia. I do not want to wake up past age fifty and sleep or lay in the bed for whole days at a time like she does. I try to encourage her to get out and come over but she dreads everything. Absolutely everything. Everything is a chore and she looks on things with such a dreaded outlook. It’s as if everything is this terrible duty that must be overcome.

I was completely out of groceries and on my last pack of cigarettes. I was dying for something other to drink than plain water. I wanted soda. I wanted hamburgers for supper. I had to call and ask for a ride. The following was my call…..

“Hey mom!” I exclaimed.

“Hey there! What are you up to?” She replied in a broken voice. She sounded as if she was awoken from a deep sleep.

“I hate to bother you but I am hungry and completely out of groceries and cigarettes. Can you give me a ride?” I replied. “I promise I will not take long.”

“Do you need to go now?” she returned in a tone of voice that seemed put out.

“Yeah, I can only walk and carry so many groceries at a time from Piggly Wiggly and need to do some hard core shopping. I am also out of cigarettes and need to stop by Spectrum.” I responded

“I will pick you up in just a second.” She replied sounding tired and dreadful.

I saw her walk out of the house and get in my late grandmother’s car. My father must be out in her Honda. I sat for awhile puffing away on a cigarette as she took her time driving the short distance from her house to mine. She pulled up with her hair amiss and with her house coat and slippers on. I felt so bad that I had to do this. I was hungry though and needed lots of staples like cornmeal, cooking oil, and milk. Heavy things that would be impractical to walk the several miles with to get them home.

Well, we made it there and back with no excitement. She drove as if she was a zombie and I had to watch out for her. I just feel so guilty having to rely on my mother like this and me being a grown man. I hope soon I will be able to drive again and I will never have to make those uncomfortable calls even though I rarely call and ask for something.