Lately I have been sort of fanatical about things like substituting "I have to go to the bathroom" for "I have to use the restroom," even in cases where I feel that I am among my betters and ought to use my Fancy Manners. That is because I am getting tired of people not quite saying things to me all the time. Allow me to present an exemplary scene:
Two characters, HILATRON and SOCIAL WORKER, are in the odiously floral office of a nursing home. They are discussing some sort of paperwork mumbo-jumbo relating to Dadatron.
SW: So, I think everything is in order here. Oh, one thing we'll need to determine is whether your father has a living will or anything that dictates his final wishes.
H: Yes, I've got something at home that I can fax to you.
SW: Great, because we'll need that when... [Social Worker stops suddenly and looks shifty for a moment] Well, we'll need that in case anything happens, or if your father should... [Looks hopefully at Hilatron, hoping she gets the idea.] pass...?
H: Uh, yeah. I'll get that information to you.
End scene.
Caregivers talk a lot to me about "passing" these days, and about "things happening," when what we are really talking about is: you and me both need to have our ducks in a row in case Dad goes into a coma or chokes on his Saturday-night bean supper, and we need to know what you want to do when, not if, he kicks it. Because, of course, that's the one thing there's no if about for anybody.
I realize that they’re trying to be gentle, and maybe they do encounter people who get the vapors over the grim realities. But it's awkward because when they start pretending that there's an "if" clause in the case of my Very Special Family Member and pussyfooting around the particulars of the Do Not Resuscitate order, what I want to do is jump on the counter and start singing a song called “I Knooooow…That Everybooooody…Croooooooaks!”
However, I never do that, or even something more reasonable like saying “Hey, I know you talk about this stuff all the time and it doesn’t really freak me out, so let’s ease up on the sugar coating, shall we?” Instead, I feel compelled to go along with the game. So when we get to the “passing” part of these conversations I have a special expression that I adopt: slightly furrowed brow, slightly turned-down mouth, head tilted to the side, and an understanding look in the eye as I try my best to pantomime “This sure is tough to talk about, but you can count on me – I appreciate your thoughtful circumspectness.” And then I say “passing” and “in case something happens” and all the other crap, too. This is of course exceedingly stupid, because it reinforces the idea that the other person should keep on doing those very things that annoy me. But for some reason I find myself powerless in the face of people’s determination to protect me. It is my kryptonite.
I worry that you can get addicted to euphemisms, that today it’s accepting the “passing” because it’s easier and next week I’ll be smiling pleasantly at the news while they talk about Operation Enduring Freedom [whose?] and the importance of The [two-heterosexual-parent, white, middle-class, “values”-endorsing] Family. So I go to the bathroom, not the restroom, as an act of rebellion and a sort of immunization from halfway expressions. I sign all the relevant correspondence as “Hilatron (Guardian – and daughter – of Dadatron),” just so it’s a little harder to consign us to cold impersonal roles and ignore our messy realities. I feel that it is important to keep my jutting edges sharp in some areas, even as I grind others down. Maybe it’s as frivolous a gesture as jumping over cracks, but it feels like a kind of balance nonetheless.
Posted by hilatron at July 7, 2004 03:11 PM | TrackBackYeah, what Hilatron said. I recently took on the task of revising (and splitting in two) for my church a document currently called "Instructions At The Time Of My Death." There is a Committee involved, so you can guess where this is going. There are Committee Members who find the current title "harsh." What's interesting is that neither the youngest nor the oldest people on the committee have a problem with "My Death;" it's the in-betweeners.
Anyway, we're aiming for two sets of instructions. One will help survivors plan a churchly celebration of the person's life, and burial/cremation/cryogenic-interment/pickling/whatever service. And I will fight for keeping the original title, in honor of you, Hilatron. We don't "pass" -- unless we're pretending to be some other race, or having digestive problems.
The other document is meant to go with people who will be in a hospital or care facility for more than a few days. It's intended to let caregivers know what that person is like in normal circumstances, because institutions have this way of diagnosing EVERYTHING. Pretty soon Great-Grammy's zonked on Prozac because someone has diagnosed her failure to smile as depression when in reality she's fine but was taught as a little girl in East Southnorthia that it's unladylike to show your teeth.
Or they decide old Uncle Fred is demented because he goes on about Alpha Centauri and Mars and the Horse Nebula and fill him gill-up with Halcyon, ignoring the fact that Fred is a retired astronomer.
And like that.
Posted by: Doombot at July 7, 2004 09:06 PMWhenever I want to use the toilet I ask for the toilet, because once in England in a pub I asked for the bathroom and they were all like, "You want to a take a bath???" That this term offends certain delicate sensibilities is just an added bonus.
But anyway, I was going to say that in my stepmother's bathroom on the back of the toilet there's one of those, "So, your loved one is going to die" pamphlets which speaks in such sensitive and poetic euphemisms about "Helping your loved one pass through this difficult process, which may cause strain and distress" and "His or her struggle to release him or herself and move on to the relief which comes after" which really makes dying sound like a particularly difficult and scratchy poo.
On the other hand, my stepmother (a RN & therapist, by the way -- ha!) has got a habit of screaming "He's going to die!!!" really loudly a few times everyday, which doesn't help much either.
The one that pisses me off the most is around Easter, when you'll get people wishing you a "good Holiday" even though there is no possible non-Christian holiday equivalent happening at that time. If you're celebrating a holiday that weekend, it will be Easter. There's no sense in saying "have a good holiday" because if you say that, whether you call it Easter or not, you're assuming someone's a Christian. Around Christmas it makes sense, because of Chanukah and Kwanzaa and Boxing Day and all that, but the Easter one gets my goat.
And there's a restaurant up here in NH that labels their restrooms wtih an enormous sign that reads "TOILETS." You'd like it there.
Posted by: aaron at July 8, 2004 09:49 AMDamn, EV, you beat me to it. But what about the euphemisms in politics? Sheesh, we're living out Orwell's 1984 (in 2004). The "Department of Homeland Security" (which makes our stomachs clench in fear -- or derision -- periodically with pronouncements of orange alerts and suggestions about duct tape? The "Department of Defense," which invades countries for possessing weapons of mass destruction which nobody can find (and which, if they ever existed, our government prolly gave them in the first place)? Or how about "Welfare," which gives poor people not enough money to scrape by on and occupies so much of their time with paperwork intended to prove they're poor that they don't have time to look for jobs?
Posted by: Doombot at July 8, 2004 12:46 PMOh, come on. Don't tell me you guys believe that "passover" crap, do you?
Posted by: aaron at July 8, 2004 03:28 PMWere we talking "believing?" I thought we were talking "observing" or "celebrating." You know, as in Santa Claus or the tooth fairy.
Or the electoral process.
In any case, since Pesach is a holiday which commemorates freedom from slavery, it seems well-worth celebrating -- especially if you don't believe in slavery.
Posted by: Doombot at July 9, 2004 12:08 PM(whoops...seems like my silly "intentionally closed-minded-for-the-sake-of-humor" statement was taken not-too-sill...illy or intentionally.)
My apoligies, Doombot. And any other bots out there who might actually think that I am in favor of the enslavement of any race or religion, or against cultural celebrations of any sort.
(Except the Festival of St. Joseph, which can bite me)
Posted by: aaron at July 10, 2004 10:27 AMApparently, I've just committed the exact same sin. Wanna forgive each other, or just slide past the whole deal?
Posted by: Doombot at July 10, 2004 01:54 PMi love the image of you jumping up on the counter and singing the everybody-croaks song. somehow a discussion of jews and tattoos with my mom led to the topic of my father's embalming (he wasn't - it's a jew thing apparently!) and then instructions on what i should do if she were to go gonzo in the hospital and so on. i like the story of that lady who got "do not resuscitate" tattooed on her chest. and i like to say "going to the john," but not at work.
Posted by: jenni at July 12, 2004 08:22 PM"Everybody Croaks" with back up vocals sung by Kermit the Frog.
Posted by: snowy at July 13, 2004 11:23 AM