Pandemics, Puppies, and Staying Behind the Wall

I am currently sitting in my keeping room with the puppy curled up beside me on the loveseat. If I move to sit anywhere else to work, she cries and jumps on me repeatedly. Repeatedly. Such is the effect of this pandemic on our relationship.

There are many effects of these months at home, aren't there?

Today, Benjamin needed a medical test that required we go to the hospital for the first time since last March. (Let me jump in right here to say everything came back normal. Don't want the grandmothers unduly worried!) 

Our hospital here is located on a busy block and the patient parking garage has been under construction since we moved here. For all our previous-to-the-pandemic appointments, we were able to use the valet parking that meant we drove up, unloaded Benjamin and someone else parked my van while we scurried to the appointment. Today, we arrived expecting the same. But Covid. The valet service was shut down. The parking garage still under construction. So we were required to park a couple blocks away in the existing parking structure. The accessible parking was right near the elevator but we had to go up four floors before finding a spot. The door at the elevator emptied us onto a sidewalk but construction barricades prevented the wheelchair space to use it (walkers were fine). We had to go back inside the garage but once there found that there was an exit at the front that was accessible (albeit he still had to be in the street for a good part of the way because of that construction.).

I say all of this to say that we arrived at our appointment six minutes late and though a gracious staff greeted us with understanding, my nerves were strained already.

Benjamin was there for a swallow test. The radiology tech was delightful. She made us feel comfortable almost immediately. She brainstormed for creative ways to get B positioned for the imaging, for the tests.

I was involved. I lifted him from the chair to the x-ray friendly chair and strapped him in. I lifted him from that chair to the x-ray table. Don't get me started on that table though....they tilted him almost to standing with no straps and told him not to worry the footplate would catch him if he slid. Never mind that the sliding was not an if but a WHEN and it wouldn't be straight.

But mainly, I stood behind the rolling glass "wall" that protects parents from the radiation. I observed the entire process through the glass. It won't surprise anyone that I still spoke admonitions. Swallow. Take a larger sip. Etc. And I kept my eyes focused like a hawk on any movement he made that would require me to jump from behind the perch to catch him from falling. Like a hawk.

It occurred to me as I stood there, that this is a perfect analogy for life parenting adults. Once upon a time, I made the decisions for little bitty triplets. I was completely and totally in charge of when they ate, bathed, slept, who they played with and for how long. As they grew older, I strongly influenced the decisions -- signed them up for extracurriculars that I thought would help them be the best they could be. Drove them to the events I wanted them to enjoy. Urged them to study certain subjects, etc. 

But today, those itty babies have grown into 23 year old adults. And while this pandemic has given me a lovely respite with them under my roof, my role as mother is to stand behind the glass wall and watch as they make decisions, choose paths, and pursue their dreams. Oh, I can still speak my admonitions -- don't forget to exercise, eat some veggies, call me -- but their life choices are not in my hands. I am no longer in control.

Deep breath in. Slow exhale.

So I'll be right here, curled up with this needy puppy, working my hardest to stay behind the wall. I will trust that they know where to find me.

And though a mama can't easily unfocus her hawk eyes, I will train mine to be more focused on knowing when to cheer! But don't judge me for also being ready to catch them too....you know, just in case.