The sun came out this afternoon and might come out again tomorrow, but, I’m sorry Annie, I’m all out of dollars today.
It must be true that when you do and act and believe one way and feel strong, you are tripped up on that path by a million adverse bumps. In spite of Julie’s inspirational memes and GH’s great dips into humor and life and G’s inspirational messages, and the posts by Rhapsody and Amanda and Jack (and I’m forgetting so many others!) I’m so angry and really there isn’t anything to be mad about. Mom’s doctor is not mine. I know The Craftsman is busy and puts things off and doesn’t plan very well. I totally am aware that mom is a consummate actress, showing a high degree of skill in that area. But, I’m still frustrated. I’ve shaken it away (not off, it is obviously sticking quite close!), I’ve gone outside and taken in deep breaths (and a few mosquitoes and no-see-ums), and I’ve read a darn good book (another one by Elizabeth Bear).
Maybe writing it will make me feel less pissed off. Maybe I’ll just be resigned and realise it is the way it is. Or maybe I’ll realise it doesn’t matter.
Mom’s sick. She is in a great deal of pain, it is almost as if the pump isn’t working.(Although, those 31 hours when she didn’t have it, I now know it does work!) Once again, we went to see the pain doctor. She upped the doses on both the basal and the bolus. But, she fucking refused to talk to me. (Can’t type nicely.) She has told me more than once that mom is the patient and mom is the one she needs to listen to. Damn it, mom LIES! This appointment was in the late afternoon. Mom was wiped out a great deal of the day. She was sleeping and not feeling good at all. She gives herself the half doses of pills every 4 hours instead of the whole one every 6, which is good, but they are harder to count in halves. (math) I cut the pills up by hand and I know I need to get a pill cutter. (I think my lackadaisical way of cutting things up is my rebellion coming out. The meds are not helping much because she takes them at such odd times and forgets and I suppose the not entirely accurate cuts are my fault for her not feeling better. I’m getting the splitter thing tomorrow) Anyway, we got to the office and mom was doing great again. She’s dropped to 114 pounds, so mom is now convinced she needs to eat lots more. Even if she does get nauseous and doesn’t want it. (I’m not sure if I mentioned these cool things. They are bars made by Bravita and have protein and carbs and are wonderful. I have part of one at bedtime and sometimes in the morning and it keeps my glucose under control. Mom? She eats the things for snacks and then wonders why her glucose is high, she only counts food as what she eats at a meal.) At the office, the doctor greeted mom, made sure mom was talked to, gave mom the scripts for the meds mom needed, asked mom questions that I ended up needing to answer, and asked mom what books she was reading (even though I had a book with me and it was pretty obvious I was reading it). She pretty much ignored me, unless I asked if I could say something, and I hid in the corner like a little child in trouble. And I was in trouble. It appears in the paperwork I’m fairly sure mom signed, but maybe I did, there is a spot that says the patient needs to bring in the meds every single week. Even if the doctor doesn’t want to look at them, they need to be brought in. Last week, the doctor said no to looking at them, so I didn’t gather them up for this visit. I got in trouble for it. Not mom, me. Because I take care of her. The doctor didn’t actually state this to me. She opened a drawer with the forms in it and showed the room at large (me) the section that read the meds needed brought in.
Going home, mom was in pain. A lot of it. She didn’t want to go into the store (that may be also cuz she left her checkbook at home, I didn’t grab it, she resents it when I have it and she wants it), she didn’t want to check the mail because she didn’t feel very good, she sat in the car while I waited for our dinner. (she’s not eaten much of her meals. I am not even sure she has had all of the shake she wanted) She came home and let the dog out and then was frantic cuz she couldn’t find him in the house. She whimpered a great deal while she changed her clothes and was in the kitchen. She lost her insulin, she said she had taken it with us (I always take mine no matter where I go and for how long) and I found the insulin pen in the middle of her bed. She is attempting to knit (she says she can’t stop doing things, even if she hurts. Commendable, but stupid. If your hand hurts and you are getting surgery on it, you should probably let it rest. But, I am probably wrong.) and I noticed she was in the dark. I mentioned that even with new glasses, she probably should turn on a light to see. Mum responded it had just gotten dark and the clouds were moving in. (yes, there are clouds and not all of them are bugs, but it is still fairly light outside.) We don’t see the pain doctor again til Strider’s birthday (July 2). Every week the doses are increased and I hope the surgeon will give mom some serious meds for the hand, since we see him before the pain doctor. Although, she is already on serious meds. She’s excited about getting the Ritalin (which was not ready again!) so she’ll be more awake and able to do more. Telling her how her words and actions hurt me puts her on the defensive and then she says she will be just fine and I should leave if I’m going to be a child swearing and hiding in my room. (I’ll try again later. Maybe when she’s asleep….)
I talked to The Craftsman on Friday before he left work. His job is near where our bank is and I told him the cost for this stupid tooth procedure and that I wasn’t sure if the debit card would handle an extraction like that. (PUN!!!!!! Inadvertent, but still.) He said he thought it would. I asked if he would check. Or maybe I didn’t. I probably didn’t, because he didn’t. I finally was able to talk to him again on Monday evening. When I mentioned again that I was nervous about the card getting frozen for me removing that much, he said it should be ok. I’ve been in AK and using the card for almost 2 years, so he’s optimistic it will work. I told him I’d look up the bank’s number online and call them in the morning. I hope they can tell me for sure if it is ok. I’d be mortified if I went in and used the card and it rejected me! I’ve used it for almost $300 from Alaska, but never almost a grand! He’s probably right, I just wanted to be certain. (I hate leaving things to chance. I’m really not very good with spur of the moment sorts of things, either!) He had taken today off, so he wasn’t near the bank, but I was still frustrated. I’m less so now. I know it is silly to be when my way of doing things is so different from his and I most likely did not ask him, in so many words, to look into it for me when he got off work on Friday.
I’m also sad I used the gift certificate to get my new Nike shoes. They really are too big for me. My feet slide all over inside them, in spite of the gel pads under the sole and the ones near the heels. I may need to get some for the toes, too. They are a smidge too tight (Nike wides are not very!) and more than a smidge too long. I should have not purchased them. Thankfully, I’m just using them for walking and not much else! Plus, Mom’s pastor is moving to a different congregation and hasn’t had time to reach out to mom. The pastor was fairly close to mom at different times and I’m sad she was too busy.
However, since the sun came out, I’m going to take my last insulin shot and go look at the sunset. It very well could be another stunning one. There are a great many clouds of all shapes and sizes gathering in the sky. Party time!!!!!!!!