Cycles of Motherhood by Barbara Gates – Tricycle
Posted: February 1, 2020 at 8:44 am
A practitioner reflects on her mothers uniquely challenging qualities following a trip to the emergency room.
We have been wandering since beginningless time in these samsaric worlds in which every being, without exception, has had relations of affection, enmity and indifference with every other being. Everyone has been everyone elses father and mother. Patrul Rinpoche (18081887)
In the ambulance, lurching bumper to bumper down York Avenue toward the emergency room, my 94-year-old mother changed her mind.
I wanted to die. Ive been telling everyone. From the gurney, she craned her neck to look up at me, jouncing beside her in the back of the van. But here I am strapped to this contraption Between blasts of the siren, she wheezed. All I can think is: I want to live!
The ER reeked of urine, vomit, and antiseptic. Gurneys lined the corridors, one jammed up against the next; officers from the NYPD lounged by the entrance, chatting up the techs. Call bells and IVs beeped. Doctors and nurses hunched over computers at their stations or rushed back and forth past patients calling from their cubicles. Deluged by addicts whod overdosed, by car crash and stabbing victims, none of the staff paid attention to my mother, despite her age and her pneumonia.
My mother arrived sporting a T-shirt proclaiming in bold aqua: Nancy at Ninety. Wed all worn them at her birthday celebration four years earlier. That was her unique hospital attire. Her style had always been her own creation. As a child, shed insisted on wearing white gloves when she went with her nanny to play in Central Park. Long after shed stopped riding horses, she wore her old jodhpurs when she chaired meetings at the League of Women Voters or painted in a studio in SoHo. Even in her eighties, she complemented a silk chemise with pants tailored to look exactly like those jodhpurs. In chemise and jodhpurs, she orchestrated her signature dinner partiessmall gatherings of eight or nine friendswhich she called my theater.
My mother wore her T-shirt instead of her green hospital gown throughout her two-day stay in the ER. No matter how I wrangled on her behalf, no beds were available, and neither were any nurses. She voiced her outrage: Why isnt anyone attending to me? She spoke with the entitlement of someone who had been born to wealth and had long since mostly lost it. Her demand for immediate service touched a raw nerve, especially since I was trying very hard to help out. I thought, but didnt say: No, Mum, youre not the center of the universe. Just an ordinary human, suffering like the rest of us.
After a half days wait, she was given a bed in a curtained space all her own instead of a gurney in the corridor. Although she was squeezed into a shared cubicle that was intended for a single patient, my mother was lucky to have even that. But for her, the cubiclewith its sheet separating her bed from that of a groaning stranger from Bangladeshfelt like an indignity and became the stage set for high drama.
The villain, my moms cubicle-mate on the other side of the curtain, was an intense little man sporting a dyed carrot-colored Mohawk. With a stream of Bengali invectives, he screamed for morphine as he passed kidney stones. Each time he thrashed in pain, he flung out an arm or leg, bashing into the curtain that served as a makeshift wall separating his half of the cubicle from my mothers. And with each seeming invasion of her half, she shouted, Get that crazy man away from my bed!
The racket in the ER increased as the night went on. All along the corridor, patients, packed end to end on gurneys, pleaded to be housed in cubicles, and those like my mother, assigned to cubicles, begged to be sent upstairs to rooms in the hospital. In the corridor right outside my mothers cubicle, three hefty NYPD officers closed in on a screaming woman as she jumped off her gurney. Heading toward the street, she pulled on the rubber tube feeding her oxygen and hollered, Lemme outta here!
Despite ongoing pleas from me, no nurse or aide took time to replace my mothers tee with a hospital gown, to wheel her to the bathroom, or at the very least to change her diaper. Im utterly wet, my mom told me. After six hours of asking politely for some help, I wrote a nasty note to the nurse, but then crumpled it up and stomped down the corridor to track down an adult diaper.
Mum, Im doing it, I tried to reassure her. Gingerly, I pulled back the covers and saw her distended belly, long slim legs. I forced myself to look at her frail pelvis swaddled in the drenched diaper. This is my mother. My tears welled up. Biting my lip, I pulled the covers over her again.
My elegant mum. I imagined her in her cozy living room, surrounded by her vibrant oils painted over many years. She is presiding at one of her dinner parties. With impeccable posture, she tilts her head back in a laugh and crosses one leg over the other to show off a shapely calf. I cant stand conversations about ordinary minutiae, shed often told me. At my dinners, I only invite people with something original to say. And I rarely invite people who know each other, shed drive home her point, so there are no boring stories about children and grandchildren. Like me, I supposed, or my daughter, Caitlin.
Returning to my mother here and now, I pulled back the covers once more. As I tried to roll her on her side, my fingers trembled and slipped. Bumbling, I strained to pull off the sopping diaper, balled it up, and hurled it onto the floor. I strove to turn her, to heave her up without hurting her. But her body resisted my pushes and pulls, and she began to whimper. Stumbling in the cramped space, I finally lifted her buttocks and slid the fresh diaper underneath. I stretched the sticky fasteners all crooked, but somehow they held the diaper on. I remembered my first clumsy efforts to fasten Caitlins diapers. To be struggling with my mothers 25 years later felt topsy-turvy.
As the evening went on, it became increasingly clear that a bed would not free up in the hospital until the next day, if then. Youre not at the top of the list, a nurse let us know. Theres another woman even older than you whos been waiting 30 hours here in the ER. She has pneumonia too, and shes a hundred and four.
I dimmed the lights and, scrunched between two open folding chairs, settled in for the night. Now I followed my breath in and outnot an approach I would suggest to my mother. A third-generation German Jew, my mother was adamantly secular. She worried that Buddhism, which I had practiced for 40 years, might be dangerous, maybe even a cult.
Her IV antibiotics on drip, oxygen clipped to her nostrils, my mother clutched her thin blanket, trying to cover her bare arms. I laid her winter coat over the blanket for added warmth, and she slept. I slept too, on and off, on my two chairs with my own coat as my blanket. It felt a bit like camping out, and I appreciated thatmaking do as best I could with whatever was available. Its how I like to live. My mom, absolutely not a camper.
After midnight, the lights suddenly blazed and a handsome young resident strode into our cubicle. Green scrubs, designer haircut, silver cuff on the helix of one ear. He looked like hed been sent from Central Casting. How are you doing? A disarming smile.
I wouldnt say I was comfortable, said my mother, with a raised brow.
The resident dragged a stool right up close to the head of her bed.
Thrilled at the entrance of this new player, my mother struggled to sit up. In her Nancy at Ninety T-shirt, she lengthened her neck and tilted her head back in a characteristic pose, graciously welcoming. Do make yourself comfortable, she gestured, with the IV tube swinging. She leaned confidentially toward the young resident. What is it you would like to discuss?
Then she turned to me. Could you roll up my bed so Im more upright?
Struggling past the blue IV tubes, the clear line for oxygen, I managed to crank up the bed a few inches.
My pillow, said my mother, and the doc reached to adjust that. He stood up, his clipboard in hand, and in a courteous tone rivaling hers began, There are a few questions I need to ask you. He cleared his throat. Its not that were expecting that you wont be coming out of this hospital soon, but just in case . . . we do need to make sure that you have an advance care directive
Of course, she broke in, Ive set everything up, a health care proxy, all of it. . . . Ive been fully ready for a long time; its really what Ive wanted. To die, that is. Just think of all the expense and trouble Im causing everyone.
Oh Mum, stop!
The young doctor continued, So were just going to ask you these questions because its part of the required admission process. In fact, we cant admit you to the hospital proper until . . .
Its well past midnight, I thought, paltry chance well be seeing that admission to the realms upstairs any time soon.
So in the unlikely case that you had a stroke or a heart attack with no hope of recovery . . . The resident looked down at his checklist. . . . leaving you unconscious and unable to breathe without the assistance of a machine
Oh, Ive figured out all that, my mum cut him off again. Then she directed me: Dear, do get out my advance care statement from my wallet, gesturing in the direction of her handbag. Several times over the past few years, my mother had shown me this miniature statement, beautifully calligraphed, then copied and reduced to create a tiny version of itself. A friend wrote it out, she told the doctor. That list had been penned by Genie, my college roommate, who had befriended my mother in our sophomore year, when Id let my mothers many letters to me stack up unread.
My mother continued, My young friend copied it in her exquisite hand, beautiful and perfect, and aside to me, just the way Genie does everything (rekindling my old fear that Genie was a much better daughter to my mother than I).
She sure knew how to needle me. Okay, Mum, I snapped. I reached for her handbag, rummaged inside, yanked out the wallet, and foraged for the damned statement.
Unflappable, the young resident went on with his protocol. Well, its just that we need to know if something happens, if you have a stroke or heart attack and your condition will not improve, would you allow CPR or an artificial respirator or
My mother waved her hand with the IV attached to her wrist. Oh, I made that absolutely clear. If I would never again be able to enjoy friends, appreciate art, music, or conversation, how could I possibly want to be resuscitated?
My mum. I had to hand it to her. What spunk she had, what commanding presence.
Darling, please read the statement to the doctor.
I adjusted myself so I could get more light from the corridor and read aloud the opening: If I become terminally ill; if I am in a coma or have little understanding
Barbara dear, my mother interjected, tell the doctor about the marvelous film Frontline featured about Genie and Jeff. She explained to the doctor, The films about Genies husband, Jeff, who had some incurable blood cancer. Its about his death. . . . As was her way, my mum veered into a new story. And of course, when Jeff was at Yale Law School, during the weekends when we were in the country, they would stay together at our apartment in New York. Thats where Jeff asked Genie to marry him. Shed begun with tragedy and moved on to romance.
Mum! This time, I was the one to interrupt. Not now! Her dramas within dramas drove me mad. I heard my voice trembling. I handed the miniature directive to the doctor.
As he skimmed it, he kept nodding his head. Yes, well, you do cover the essentials. An alarm beeped shrilly from somewhere close. Terrific that you carry it with you, and
Abruptly my mum silenced him again. Tell me, she interrupted, Do you have a girlfriend?
Taken aback at this breach in his doctorly script, the young resident stuttered, Well . . . well, yes. I do. He ran a hand through his blond hair. A nurse on this floor, in fact. Then he cut himself off, as if he had perhaps said too much.
Wonderful! she pronounced. When all this nonsense is over She waved her arm, including in one sweep the corridor of sick and injured, the officers from the NYPD, her nemesis on the other side of the curtain. You must bring her over to my apartment for a festive party and join me for dinner!
Ive heard it said in many dharma talks that every being, in one birth or another, has been ones mother. Yet I am reflecting about my particular, unique, and challenging mother. On my recent visit, five years after that night in the ER, she is frail, mostly dozing as she enters her one-hundredth year. I happen on a copy of the miniature advance care statement. I sweep back to the dashing doctor, to years of tangles, conflicts, sweetness, fun. Unaccountably, my mind opensto the fragility of life, the nearness of death. I find myself warmed by memories of my mothers bold spirit, and the blessing of graciousness, her particular brand.
Read the original post:
Cycles of Motherhood by Barbara Gates - Tricycle
- Happening this week: Queer Climbing Night, Basics of Buddhism and more - Vail Daily News - February 1st, 2021
- How Durga images and sculptures showed up in Ghazni, Afghanistan - ThePrint - February 1st, 2021
- Explained: What are the amendments in Thailands abortion law? - The Indian Express - February 1st, 2021
- Dying 'the Buddhist way' gains in hospice centers in the West - Religion News Service - November 12th, 2020
- Buddhist thought and practice: an exploration | Columnists - Herald Review - November 12th, 2020
- Buddhist Nuns and Their Crusade for Recognition in Southeast Asia - VICE - November 12th, 2020
- The Angsty Buddhist: Chronic Pain & Trying Not To Be A White Yoga Lady - Autostraddle - November 12th, 2020
- Meet Thich Nhat Hanh, the man behind Escondido's famed Deer Park Monastery - The San Diego Union-Tribune - November 12th, 2020
- One Man's Trash, Another Man's Tradition - Earth Island Journal - November 12th, 2020
- China wants to build a Tibet with more wealth and less Buddhism - Livemint - October 30th, 2020
- Buddhist Insights on Peace & Love, Hosted by the Peacemakers - The All State - October 30th, 2020
- The Angsty Buddhist: Learning Anger And White Buddhism - Autostraddle - October 30th, 2020
- Days After 230 Dalits Accepted Buddhism In UP, FIR Registered Over "Conversion" Rumour | HW English - HW News English - October 30th, 2020
- Miracle Grow: Zen in the Mulch Pit - Splice Today - October 30th, 2020
- India to spend $15 million to boost Buddhist ties in region - ABC News - October 3rd, 2020
- The Return of the Pope of Buddhism Scepter by His Holiness Dorje Chang Buddha III was Rejected - PRNewswire - October 3rd, 2020
- Do a temple stay at the headquarters of Soto Zen Buddhism - Japan Today - October 3rd, 2020
- Catholics spread joy to disabled Buddhist children in Vietnam - UCAN - October 3rd, 2020
- Travelling to Indias Himalayan frontiers? Heres why you see fluttering colored flags and stone stacks - The Financial Express - October 3rd, 2020
- Sikkim to establish new Buddhist university in accordance with National Education Policy guidelines -... - The Sentinel Assam - October 3rd, 2020
- NFU: Understanding the spirit and intent of the Lands Protection Act - TheChronicleHerald.ca - October 3rd, 2020
- The True Nature of Self: A Live-Streaming Buddhist Retreat - Patch.com - October 3rd, 2020
- Understanding the spirit and intent of Lands Protection Act - peicanada.com - October 3rd, 2020
- Looper column: The role of desire in the religious life - Sentinel-Standard - September 4th, 2020
- Prof. Stephen Long stresses recognition of Buddhist in the US - Asian Tribune - September 4th, 2020
- Buddhist nun challenges hatred of women - The Star Online - September 4th, 2020
- Where Buddhist mindfulness and Black activism meet - Vox.com - July 6th, 2020
- Buddhist Temple Archway Preserved in High Detail with Artec 3D Scanning - 3DPrint.com - July 6th, 2020
- THE FIFTH OF JULY: A Buddhist Analysis of What's Wrong, and What Might be Right. - Patheos - July 6th, 2020
- VICE - This Beatboxing Buddhist Monk Is Out to Change Perceptions of Spiritual Music - VICE - July 6th, 2020
- Gautam Buddha gave his first sermon on Guru Purnima: A look at some of his teachings and quotes - Times Now - July 6th, 2020
- Review: The Buddha and the Borders by Nirmalaya Banerjee - Hindustan Times - July 6th, 2020
- How Many Dragon Balls Are There in The Original Manga? - Screen Rant - July 6th, 2020
- Young Japan priests try to breathe life into fading Buddhism - Religion News Service - June 14th, 2020
- Confluence of ideas - Chinadaily.com.cn - Chinadaily USA - June 14th, 2020
- 5 Facts To Know About The Future Of Buddhism - World Atlas - June 14th, 2020
- Emily Temples The Lightness Spins a Mystery Around Troubled Teen Girls at Summer Camp - Observer - June 14th, 2020
- Indian philosophy helps us see clearly, act wisely in an interconnected world - The Conversation US - June 14th, 2020
- COVID-19 and the link between religious practices and personal health - Deseret News - June 14th, 2020
- Japanese art and rinpa: Buddhism, Maple trees, and a lovely stone lantern - Modern Tokyo Times - June 14th, 2020
- Montaigne to perform at the Art Gallery of New South Wales for Make Music Day - Aussievision - June 14th, 2020
- Don Farber, Visions of Buddhist Life by Andy Romanoff - The Eye of Photography - May 26th, 2020
- Susy Powlesland obituary - The Guardian - May 26th, 2020
- Water, reciprocity, and the anthropocene in the Himalayas - Advanced Science News - May 26th, 2020
- The robot does the hard work. Can you still attain enlightenment? - MIT Technology Review - February 21st, 2020
- Open hearts: The Buddhist approach to love and loving - Irish Examiner - February 21st, 2020
- Simon Walker invests the grand resign of living in the now - Newcastle Herald - February 21st, 2020
- Buddhist conference to be attended by 21 countries - Himalayan Times - February 21st, 2020
- Solitude in Buddhism | The Art of Solitude - Tricycle - February 1st, 2020
- Race and Class in Buddhism: A Vision of What Could Be - Tricycle - February 1st, 2020
- Buddhism and Relationships: Love at First Sit - Tricycle - February 1st, 2020
- How to Read the Lotus Sutra: A Guide for the Uninitiated - Tricycle - February 1st, 2020
- Investigating the Mind: What Buddhism Says About Our Likes and Dislikes - Tricycle - February 1st, 2020
- The Gandharan manuscripts change what we know about the course of Buddhist history - Scroll.in - February 1st, 2020
- Liberate: Why Julio Rivera Created a Meditation App for People of Color - Tricycle - February 1st, 2020
- When Religion Kills lives up to the hype - The Kingston Whig-Standard - February 1st, 2020
- The American Jewish Romance with Buddhism - Mosaic - January 7th, 2020
- Ernest & Dorothy Hunt: Early Links in the Golden Chain of Buddhism Coming West - Patheos - January 7th, 2020
- Tara Goddess of Compassion and Savior of the Suffering - Ancient Origins - January 7th, 2020
- Buddhism and poetry in Japan during the Nara Period - Modern Tokyo Times - January 7th, 2020
- The mysterious Irishman who was the first westerner ordained a Buddhist monk - The Irish Times - January 7th, 2020
- CHINA Sichuan, the government closes a network of Tibetan Buddhist centers - AsiaNews - January 7th, 2020
- After you have a panic attack on live TV, being 10 percent happier is a good start to a changed life - The Boston Globe - January 7th, 2020
- Protection of Sinhala Buddhists will ensure religious freedom - PM - Ceylon Daily News - January 7th, 2020
- The Buddhas Words Open Up Ancient Worlds at the British Library - Tricycle - December 22nd, 2019
- Buddhist Drug and Alcohol Rehab - Addiction Center - December 22nd, 2019
- What Is Buddhism & 6 Meditations To Find Your Zen - YourTango - December 22nd, 2019
- The Gross National Happiness of Bhutan - Geographical - December 22nd, 2019
- Sri Lankan authorities delay on whether to prosecute award-winning writer Shakthika Sathkumara - World Socialist Web Site - December 16th, 2019
- Spot the difference between sign and symbol - The Hindu - December 16th, 2019
- MIT historian Sana Aiyar sheds new light on the complexities of independence movements and global migration - India New England - December 16th, 2019
- Using The Four Noble Truths To Go from Burnout to Bliss - Thrive Global - December 16th, 2019
- The Last Jedi put Star Wars Buddhist philosophy in the foreground - Polygon - December 14th, 2019
- How the Library of Congress Unrolled a 2,000-Year-Old Buddhist Scroll - Atlas Obscura - December 14th, 2019
- Dutch officials after church sale: 'It's better to have Buddhists than apartments' - Crux: Covering all things Catholic - December 14th, 2019
- You probably knew mindfulness could help you with stress. But did you know it could save your marriage? - ABC News - December 14th, 2019
- The Buddhist Kathina Festival - The Good Men Project - December 14th, 2019
- Photos of the Week - Religion News Service - December 14th, 2019
- 'He was like, what?': Why 4 women left their 'normal' lives to become Buddhist nuns - CBC.ca - December 14th, 2019
- Grassroots Buddhism Flourishes in the Outskirts of Bangkok - IDN InDepthNews | Analysis That Matters - December 14th, 2019