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MountainGoat of Sleet
Jan. 25th, 2019 10:44 pmA curious day with weird ups and downs! Last night, I had a very disturbing conversation with my mother. It was disturbing because she seemed unstuck in time and place on several fronts. Her final comment was that one of the staff thought she had a UTI and had tested her for it. So as soon as I hung up, I immediately called the care supervisor and asked about that. They said yes, they'd done a urine test and faxed the partial results to her PCP. Unnerved by this and some other events of the day, I woke up at 4 am as if shot from a cannon and couldn't go back to sleep for the longest time.
So today got off to a bad start. Dragonfly had called to see if I'd like to be taken out for a birthday lunch. It was snowing vigorously again, and we had plans to have friends over for dinner. One couple had invited the group--then found out they couldn't host after all, so we had stepped in with an offer of soup, bread, and birthday cake, plus whatever people might want to bring. I felt grumpy and as if I wanted to just stay home. But I haven't seen Dragonfly in so long . . . as soon as she arrived I was so happy to see her. We chatted and caught up, and our lunch was delicious, and the restaurant manager stopped by to wish me a happy birthday and give me a BOGO coupon for next time!
Throughout the day, I continued to text and call about my mother's situation. Receptionists, nurses, caregivers, the Duchess . . . round after round of phone calls all to get a fax actually sent and then read. And all to no avail, because no prescription was sent. Either the doctor didn't think the results warranted it, or she just didn't get around to it . . . or who knows. I finally made contact with my mother after nine o'clock--late for her!--and found her much more coherent than last night. The care supervisor failed to call me back after repeated requests. So the Duchess and I concurred that this was just another false alarm and we were not going to strain every nerve to get Mother an emergency appointment she probably doesn't need. We'll see what happens tomorrow. This whole process sucked up every bit of my extra energy, however.
Dinner plans executed a slow-motion collapse as one friend decided the weather was not propitious, another broke her windshield wiper while clearing off the car, and a third forgot to check his email. The last friend standing was one of the couple who had to renege on hosting. He had to go out of town for work, and she injured her knee and was on crutches, staying at her daughter's house. The Sparrowhawk went and got her, and the three of us had an agreeable dinner. We ate soup, bread, crunchy vegetables, hot tea and birthday cake, while discussing The Religion of Democracy: Seven Liberals and the American Moral Tradition by Amy Kittelstrom. This was more fun than it sounds like, with the Sparrowhawk in his best seminar mode and tangents in all directions.
Watched a bit of ice skating, and now we're completely exhausted.
So today got off to a bad start. Dragonfly had called to see if I'd like to be taken out for a birthday lunch. It was snowing vigorously again, and we had plans to have friends over for dinner. One couple had invited the group--then found out they couldn't host after all, so we had stepped in with an offer of soup, bread, and birthday cake, plus whatever people might want to bring. I felt grumpy and as if I wanted to just stay home. But I haven't seen Dragonfly in so long . . . as soon as she arrived I was so happy to see her. We chatted and caught up, and our lunch was delicious, and the restaurant manager stopped by to wish me a happy birthday and give me a BOGO coupon for next time!
Throughout the day, I continued to text and call about my mother's situation. Receptionists, nurses, caregivers, the Duchess . . . round after round of phone calls all to get a fax actually sent and then read. And all to no avail, because no prescription was sent. Either the doctor didn't think the results warranted it, or she just didn't get around to it . . . or who knows. I finally made contact with my mother after nine o'clock--late for her!--and found her much more coherent than last night. The care supervisor failed to call me back after repeated requests. So the Duchess and I concurred that this was just another false alarm and we were not going to strain every nerve to get Mother an emergency appointment she probably doesn't need. We'll see what happens tomorrow. This whole process sucked up every bit of my extra energy, however.
Dinner plans executed a slow-motion collapse as one friend decided the weather was not propitious, another broke her windshield wiper while clearing off the car, and a third forgot to check his email. The last friend standing was one of the couple who had to renege on hosting. He had to go out of town for work, and she injured her knee and was on crutches, staying at her daughter's house. The Sparrowhawk went and got her, and the three of us had an agreeable dinner. We ate soup, bread, crunchy vegetables, hot tea and birthday cake, while discussing The Religion of Democracy: Seven Liberals and the American Moral Tradition by Amy Kittelstrom. This was more fun than it sounds like, with the Sparrowhawk in his best seminar mode and tangents in all directions.
Watched a bit of ice skating, and now we're completely exhausted.
