Once again, it’s that New Year’s resolution time of the year. I no longer worry about my list of resolutions until sometime in January – whenever the resolving mood strikes me.  In February, I make my list of excuses.

Though this may be hard for you to believe, not everything is about me. Sometimes it’s about some other nut here at the Dancing Dog Ranch – one who has already prepared for the New Year.

Last week, before I had the final present wrapped, Dearly Demented Mom made her resolution. She resolved never to take her medicine again. And, I’m sorry, but that’s not going to work for me.

Say, maybe this is about me after all.

I’ve given Dearly Demented Mom her doctor-prescribed pills twice a day for more than 5 years. I stick them in tapioca pudding and she swallows them. Evidently the pills work, because at 90 years old, she’s still alive and kicking. I could do without the kicking part, though.

Imagine my surprise the other morning when I went to get Mom up and discovered a large blue Mucinex pill stuck to her back. I’ve heard of the Princess and the Pea, but the Mother and the Mucinex?  

The next day I noticed a variety of pills on the floor at DDM’s feet. Now I was getting suspicious. That evening, after giving her a spoonful of pill-laden pudding, I walked away as usual except this time I whipped around in mid-step and caught her spitting out pills.

ME: “Ah ha! I saw that! Why are you doing that?”
DDM: “The doctor said I didn’t have to take pills anymore.”
ME: “Oh no he didn’t.”
DDM: “Yes he did. If you give me those pills, it will kill me.”
ME: “Trust me, it couldn’t be that easy.”

And with that, she kicked me in the shin. I swear I’m going to start Caregiver Protective Services one day.

So there we were – a stubborn mother who raised a stubborn daughter. If you’ve forgotten your pecking order, the mother usually wins.

I tried everything – smashing the pills, hiding them in ice cream, threatening her with no television. I even talked to her imaginary husband. Nothing was working for me.

I brought in the specialists – Dearly Demented Mom’s team of caregivers. Everyone agreed that you can’t force anyone to do anything they don’t want to do; including make the elderly take their pills. Still, I was determined.

Finally, one of DDM’s angels said, “You know, there’s more than one place to put those pills.” I won’t get into specifics, but suffice it to say there is another orifice that will absorb medication.

The next morning, after I got her up, Dearly Demented Mom happily settled down to watch The View. That’s when I staged the surprise attack. I grabbed a dining room chair and sat down across from her face to face.

ME: “Mom, we have to talk.”
DDM: “Forget it. I’m not taking my medicine. The doctor told me not to.”
ME: “Well the doctor told me if you didn’t take it you’d die. So you have to.”
DDM: “No I don’t.”
ME: “Yes you do and if you won’t let me stick these pills in your mouth, there’s another place I can stick them.”

I went on to explain the details and DDM laughed for several minutes. Finally she started to get nervous. She gulped and said, “You’re not serious, are you?” To which I replied, “Absolutely. Girl Scout’s honor.”

With that she opened her mouth. The Resolution Revolution was over. Works for me.

 Mikie Baker
www.mikiebaker.com

Copyright Medina Mikie, Ink. 2010