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Writing is an adventure. To begin with, it is a toy and an amusement. Then it becomes a mistress, then it becomes a master, then it becomes a tyrant. The last phase is that just as you are about to be reconciled to your servitude, you kill the monster and fling him to the public.

— Winston Churchill

Forced Home for Christmas

All year we have planned to spend the Christmas holiday here in Georgia rather than make our annual trip to Vermont to be with my parents and family. For 11 months I’ve stuck to my guns, shrugged off the guilt, remained determined for Santa to visit Aaron in our own home. Even if I changed my mind and wanted to go to Vermont, I couldn’t possibly admit it. Nope, not this pride-filled daughter. I said NO and I meant NO.

Something happened yesterday that has completely changed the scenario. Do you remember a post from a few days ago, Mom and the Prick Doctor, where I sent out a plea to my mother’s acupuncturist and asked him to focus on helping with her memory problems instead of her knee? I’ve been worried about both her short-term and long term-memory for a while, but something happened yesterday that shed light on just how serious the problem is. Her prick doctor left a comment here and not only did it confirm my worries, it amplified them.

As for your request, I would not find it at all unethical or unscrupulous to answer your plea for help if your mother was in fact… a patient of mine. Donna has shown up on occasion in pajamas at my place of residence, demanding treatment for different ailments with Acupuncture yes, but I think any health-care professional would find it unprofessional to give said treatment to anyone on their front lawn at 4am:)

I’m terribly relieved to learn that Mom is at least remembering to wear her pajamas, but really—this is serious.

She may require medication, or a doctor with bigger needles. My parents live in a small town. How is my father going to explain when his wife is arrested for stalking the Prick Doctor? Can you imagine the humiliation? Will the local folk think Dad is inadequate and that’s why Mom is so interested in the good doctor’s needles? Oh, I can just hear the rumors now!

We’ve already established that I am The Favorite Child, and with the title comes a certain amount of daunting responsibility. What’s a dedicated and loving daughter supposed to do in a situation like this? Well, first I obviously need to confer with the Prick Doctor myself and put together an intervention plan. Second, I need to grease the palms of the local sheriff in case he starts to notice Mom’s 4 a.m. escapades. These are things that can only happen in person.

Yes, I obviously need to go home and evaluate things for myself, take things into my own hands. Unfortunately, I can’t get away just now. It’ll be a few weeks until I can get to Vermont. My schedule is full of commitments until, well, the week of Christmas.

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