My mother was sick again today. She is always sick. Today she was sitting in her pajamas with her feet on a heating pad, watching a religious station. Her head was wrapped in multiple layers of hat and scrarf. She had a thermometer sticking out of her mouth. She was so sick and needed to go to the doctor.
My mother is a hypochondriac. We've gone through stretches of visiting doctors almost every day and not finding anything wrong. For this last two weeks, we've cycled through various ailments she thought she had. The truth is that she has been sick every day all day long since 2005. Today I told her that there was nothing wrong with her except that she had made an occupation of being sick, and she was driving me crazy. I never paid attention anymore because she cried wolf all the time. I told her to stop and to get that silly thing off her head.
No, I didn't crack. My mother's dementia is not bad enough to excuse this behavior. It is a really silly game she is playing to avoid having to do anything. If she is sick she doesn't have to clean house, socialize, or move from her chair in front of the TV. I told her to get up and start living. My way of thinking is that if she wants to spend each day dying for many years, she can do it in a nursing facility. I am tired of scheduling appointments and running to the drugstore to get her drug of the day.