I served Karen a light supper in bed but she continued to feel poorly. I'd left my laxative purchases on her night stand and suggested she look at the various remedies and make a decision. She ignored the bag and said nothing. I remained by her bedside, reading a book. She complained I was hovering over her but didn't ask me to leave, nor did she choose a remedy.
"Karen?" I finally asked. "I thought we could discuss the medicines I bought."
"I don't want to talk. I just want to feel better." Then she added, "Turn out the light and let me sleep, please."
I stayed another few minutes before kissing her and leaving to read in my bed. A half hour later, Karen entered the room, the quilt still wrapped around her frail body as she slumped into the love chair, rubbing her stomach. I rose from my bed and sat next to her.
"We have to discuss the medicine," I said.
"Tell me about the other thing," she said, "the enema thing your mother did." I tried to hide my surprise.
"Karen," I answered, "you don't want to go there, believe me. I shouldn't have mentioned it."
"Just explain about it, that's all."
I did so and added, "It's over kill; far more than you need to clear up your problem. That's your lesson in old fashioned home health care. Now we have different and simpler remedies."
Karen nodded in agreement and began reading the label on a bottled product as I read the directions on other items out loud, including the suppository.
"Karen, time to make a decision," I said.
"None of them," she said emphatically. "They all take too long. I hate to take medicine and if I had to take that suppository gizmo I might as well do the enema thing and get it over with."
"Don't say that!"
"I hate medicine!" She began sobbing. "I want what Grandma did." I was speechless. "You just wouldn't do what your mother did. That's what you're saying!"
"It's not that. I'm saying it isn't necessary nowadays and it's unnecessary for you to endure it."
"You endured it and it worked for you when Grandma did it."
I took a deep breath. "Sure it works. If you had a splinter, cutting off your finger would work but it's over kill. An enema is unnecessary over kill. I'm sorry I brought up the subject."
"If you won't do it I'll just skip soccer tomorrow and just sit around hurting and waiting to poop all day."
I knew I was being played. She was testing me once again. "I'll tell you what, Karen. I'll go out to the hall closet, get the enema package and let you read it. It's your choice. It will show you how to use it, by yourself, in the bathroom. You can decide if you want to endure it but any one of these laxatives or the suppository would be much more pleasant. Is that what you want?"