Monday, September 23, 2013

Encounter with the Fuzz

Many years ago, approximately 15 years, I was in charge of my Dad for a short time only. Mother and Tim had something planned while Tim was living in Bowie, Md. So I volunteered to keep Dad at my house so they could enjoy themselves.
You see my Dad had several strokes, he had trouble with his speech and sleeping at night. But I figured, what is one night, I can handle anything. Mother brought him to my home with his travel case which included his Dilantin and Phenobarbital-his seizure medications that he had to have regularly.
The next day I was to take Dad back to Bowie and then head to the hospital for my 3-11 shift. Sure I could do that, even though he kept me awake all night rearranging the bedroom and lifting furniture that only a fork-lift could move. So admittedly, I was a little edgy.
That morning I got the boys off to school, took my shower, gave Dad a bath and got him fed and packed to go to Bowie before I killed him. Dad was hard to move and his gait was not stable but I managed to get him in the car with minimal frustration.
And so our trip began. Dad sitting on the passenger side with his hat on crooked, like he preferred it that way. I was listening to the Beach Boys tape and very excited to get him back to Mother.
By the time I got to Owings Mills, I realized I had left his seizure medications home on the counter. Now time was precious. Mother needed that medicine to give him, so I admit I was in a panic.
I turned the car around and went busting back to Carroll County to get home and get the medicine. I had just crossed over the reservoir going downhill and in our old Jeep that loved to speed. As I was coming up hill, a trooper walked across the highway and pointed at me to pull over.
I immediately was agitated and started fussing out loud. Somehow Dad understood I had been pulled over and kept saying, "Aw baby, aw baby". I yelled at him, "Just shut up Dad."
When the trooper came over I rolled down the window and passed him my license and registration before he even asked. I was too annoyed to speak and never said a word.
The trooper said, "I stopped you for doing 72 in a 50 mile zone." Still I didn't talk. I sat there thinking as the trooper was sitting in his car writing me a $150 dollar fine, that maybe I should tell him about Dad and his strokes and my rush to get his meds. I decided I would do that.
When the trooper returned with my license, registration and the big fine, he commented on my good driving record. I thought to myself, you mean flawless. Then I was angry all over again. I was going to be late for work and my bowels were in an uproar.
The trooper looked at Dad and asked, "How are you sir." Dad turned to look at him with that side ways hat and said, "Just fine thank ye". Oh well there went my sick man story.
I pulled away and looked at Dad and said, "You know what, that does it, you are going in a nursing home. You haven't said a complete sentence in 15 years and when the cop appears you act all normal. This is all your fault. Completely." I kept fussing at him until I got home and realized I couldn't make it to work unless Mother picked him up. I called her and told her about the fine and time was passing, and she sweetly came to get him.
I watched them drive away with the medicines and felt so ashamed at yelling at Dad. It was not a good father daughter moment and I still think of it even though he is in Heaven.
When court day came, I dolled up to impress the judge and prayed I wouldn't get any points off and wouldn't you know it, I had a lady judge that could have passed for Judge Judy.
The good news is, I paid the fine and no points and yes I did slow down.