Just Watch It, Fella
Let me start off by saying that I'm sure I'm making too much of this and I'm likely reading more into the situation than it warrants. But you know if I'm going to get carried away I may as well go for a long ride.
I'm starting to get to the point where I'm getting anxious about my trip and it's more than just the latest thwarted terror activity. I'm at the point where I get concerned about how B will be taken care of while I'm gone.
I've said before that I'm quite territorial and that territory extends to B's care. I'm in charge of it, I do virtually all of it and I take full responsibility for any good or bad results. Since I took over his care he's been very sick a couple times but the last time was six years ago and he hasn't had a pressure sore in nearly ten years. I do a very good job, if I do say so myself.
While I'm gone my MIL will take care of B. She was the one who cared for B before I ever came along but she also had the help of B's dad, who has since passed away, and she hasn't had to do it full time since the last time I went home for a visit three years ago. She's also getting older and that plays a part since taking care of B can be physically demanding. However Gerd, her gentleman friend, will be around to help her out. And luckily Gerd has care giving experience. His late wife had Parkinson's and later due to a Parkinson's induced fall she was a quadriplegic. And while everyone with a spinal cord injury is different it should all be at least somewhat familiar to him. I'm sure he's going to be a great help to my MIL while she takes care of B and this should all give me some peace of mind.
But there's one little niggling thing.
Tonight B's mom called us to check in and chat and she was talking about some mutual friends who came to visit her and Gerd and have supper tonight. She made a variety of salads and cheese soup for supper. In the background we could hear Gerd going on about how great this soup is and how much B would enjoy it, blah, blah, blah. Okay - except for the fact that B doesn't like cheese soups or sauces. He won't eat cream sauces. I couldn't get him to eat macaroni and cheese if it meant saving his life. He doesn't like any white sauces, with or without cheese, with the exception of Hollandaise.
B said "Oh I wouldn't like that soup." and Gerd asked why not. B replied that he doesn't like white sauces and Gerd replied "Well when your wife's gone your mom can cook some of that cheese soup and I'll make you eat it.". B and I looked at one another with expressions that said "Wrong answer.". I know Gerd was just kidding around. I mean I feel like I know he was anyway. But still, that statement grates on my nerves.
Those who are handicapped are dependent on those who care for them. They're completely vulnerable to their caregivers. We can exercise complete control over them. There's a bond of trust that's built between a caregiver and the person for whom they care and it's one that shouldn't be abused. I don't even like joking about its abuse. To say, even as a joke, that B will be made to do anything, especially eat something he finds repulsive, bothers me a lot.
But I have to let this irritation go, else I can't make this trip. If I can't trust someone to come into my precious territory and care for B for 2 1/2 weeks then I simply have to stay home. I have to have faith that my MIL can handle, with Gerd's help, taking care of B. I know that our family physician is available at any time should B become ill in any way and I could be back home in about 24 hours if there were an emergency. I have to know that my MIL will keep B's interests in mind and her loyalties will be first with her son. I have to have faith that B will be the strong, willful person he is now and won't allow himself to be pushed around or neglected or abused by anyone.
I like Gerd and all. I think he's a very nice man and he makes my MIL very happy. I think he would do all he could to take proper care of B. I have to have faith in it. And Gerd better have faith in the fact that if I find out he's put one foot wrong and has compromised B's trust or care in any way, I'll plant my foot up his ass so far he'll think Birkenstock started making hats.
When we hung up the phone tonight B said "Gerd says something like that to me again, I'm gonna tell him to roll me over and kiss my ass.". That's my guy. Don't go down without a fight.