Shooing away the vultures

I’ve been very sick lately and my mother has been very odd about it.  She doesn’t show terribly much interest in me when I’m well, nor much even when I’m sick.  But when I got very sick, she suddenly developed an intense interest. 

When I’m too sick to eat, get out of bed, or do anything, she suddenly wants to bring me food, wash my clothes, rent me DVDs, and just sit around staring at me with nothing to say.  All this with an intense urgency too.  If she offered such help when I was well enough to benefit from it, it might be a different story.  Oh, and she’s suddenly ringing me twice daily, turning up without invitation, and trying to stare into my eyes while sighing histrionically.  It’s so invasive I shudder.  She seems to assume that when a person is seriously ill, it gives her the right to intrude on all their personal boundaries and presume an intimacy that has never been established. 

I feel like I’m surrounded by vultures.  A person who takes no interest in helping until their patient looks ready to cark it is generally not a person simply having a belated attack of conscience.  I keep waiting for her to ask me if I’ve made a will. 

I feel so frustrated that I can’t speak to her directly about it.  I wish I could spell it out for her, because I very much doubt she’ll get it on her own. 

It seems my only other option is to stand up, wave my arms about, yell a bit, and generally make it known that I’m not about to die yet.  What a crazy culture of non-communication my family has.  The best I can manage within its rules is about as sophisticated as baring my teeth and charading out "still armed and dangerous!"