In 2003, Ma had a stroke. Dad was her full time caregiver until he he had a car accident that totaled the car. So in 2006, I became their chauffeur among other jobs.
At the time, to deal with the stress of running two households and working, I kept a blog entitled CJ's Whine and Cheeze. Egged on by some friends who enjoyed the first read through, you'll see your part when it comes by.
Friday, December 29, 2006
Shoes of the Weebles
Shoe day finally arrived, and I convinced Himself that misery loves company. Good egg that he is, he came with me for an outing with the Weebles.
When we arrived, Ma was bustling about the livingroom doing the where's the checkbook dance. Dad was speaking in tongues and going back and forth between rooms. I found the checkbook under a pile of mail. Ma grabbed her coat, and we were off.
Himself was driving and neither of the Weebles gave him driving directions. I'm envious of his power. He found a handicap spot, and settled in to wait. Dad decided to sit in the car with Himself so I helped Ma out of the car, and we skipped to the doctor's office where we waited, and waited, and waited.
She was very excited about finally getting new shoes. She had me retrieve samples from the display. What do you think of this one? What do you think of that one? I like the Mary Janes. They all look so clumsy.
In that she was correct, the shoes all look exactly the same except for color or whether they buckle with a Velcro strap or tie. The shoes look like clogs except they don't have wooden soles. They have leather or neoprene uppers, very round, very wide toe boxes. They really look like shoes kindergarteners draw.
Finally Ma's turn came and she shuffled into the examination room where we waited and waited and waited some more. She debated between a pair of tie shoes and a pair of Mary Janes.
Finally the doctor came in and measured her feet. She told him the shoe she was thinking about. He told her he had ordered her the shoe last year. She reminded him that last year he ordered shoes in the wrong width, and the shoes had to be sent back twice.
He looked at me and expected me to help him out. I just shrugged and smiled politely. Afterall, he was getting paid for the aggravation, not me.
He brought in a shoe sample to try on. She was not happy about the style. She treated him like a shoe salesman. I want to see the beige one. How about the black one? I really like those Mary Janes. By the fifth time he called her "dear", I knew his patience was wearing thin as he tried to tell her he was more concerned with comfort than style.
She wanted the Mary Janes, but he didn't think they would be good for her as they have a smooth sole and as unsteady as she is, she needs something with traction. She resigned herself to having a pair of clumsy shoes. He ordered her the pair of tie shoes similar to the ones he had ordered last year. Again, she reminded him he ordered the wrong width.
I'm pretty sure I saw him heave a sigh of relief as we left the office.
Commentary: While the events are amusing the situation is not. These shoes are horribly expensive running between $300 and $400. The insurance company will only allow a patient one pair of shoes per year. I doubt the shoes that are made out of neoprene will last more than six months. I did an Internet search for diabetic shoes and found them online for a third the cost of what the doctor is selling them for. It's really outrageous. Hopefully, he will order shoes free of charge for someone who has no insurance or the money for the co-pay. Afterall, with the high markup, other people have already paid for the shoes.
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