MountainGoat of Sleet
Jan. 25th, 2023 09:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoWell, that was a trip and a half. I'm finally pushed out of my blog recalcitrance, not by a desire to describe many lovely things--which I also do have--but by my need to express vigorous disapproval. I guess that shows ya where my priorities lie . . . . So, I agreed to drive Madame to a doctor's appointment today. It didn't sound that hard. I figured it would help alleviate some of my own anxiety about her current condition, and I usually visit her on Wednesday anyway. Between when I agreed and when it happened, there was a lot of back and forth amongst her, me, and her daughter. Madame has lost the ability to hold certain thoughts in her mind. She knows a thing, then forgets it again, is reminded, and knows it briefly, and then reverts to her former state. She's not allowed to drive until February 14, due to injuries sustained in her pre-Christmas fall. But she freely admits that if she had her car, she'd drive anyway, so I'm quite grateful that her daughter has borrowed her car. Sensible child!
I took her to the cafe to get some food in her before going to the doctor. I think this was a wise idea. Today was a post-hospital checkup with her PCP. In the interests of respecting her privacy, I won't say any more about the appointment itself, but her super-duper all-natural health clinic is a horror show. They are such hideous quacks. It is quite apparent that all they want is to bamboozle people into buying endless rounds of expensive "supplements" and useless "treatments." Nobody was wearing a mask, and although the staff wore latex gloves, they didn't wash their hands! SHUDDER. The doctor was an astonishing sight. Picture a tall, gaunt, blonde woman wearing a lot of makeup and a polyester pantsuit of a sort of iridescent bronze-orange shade. She was towing an IV stand with a bag of a weird yellowish fluid that was actually hooked up to an IV in her own arm as she interrogated the patient. She gave me the creeps. The nurses stuck Madame four times before getting the blood sample they wanted. It was hard to watch. I'd run a mile to get away from that place, but I was glad I was there to provide company for Madame. She requested me to come into the exam room with her so I could remember things for her. I wrote down the essentials and later texted them to her and her daughter.
Did I mention that it was snowing heavily all day? It wasn't a real blizzard, and the roads were pretty clear. But yeah, just to raise the difficulty level a degree or two. Also, she's seriously going to die if she doesn't get out of that house. Note to self (and everybody): If you think you might live to be 85, NEVER move into a tri-level. Also, never pile your extra crap in the garage--the garage where there's the only door that's accessible to you with your walker. (Insert me making Wookiee noises here.) Well, we all got home in one piece and that's the main thing. I rant because I don't want to cry.
I am now going to eat some leftover ice cream cake from my birthday (an excellent choice by the Sparrowhawk) and watch the the men's short program from the European Figure Skating championships.
I took her to the cafe to get some food in her before going to the doctor. I think this was a wise idea. Today was a post-hospital checkup with her PCP. In the interests of respecting her privacy, I won't say any more about the appointment itself, but her super-duper all-natural health clinic is a horror show. They are such hideous quacks. It is quite apparent that all they want is to bamboozle people into buying endless rounds of expensive "supplements" and useless "treatments." Nobody was wearing a mask, and although the staff wore latex gloves, they didn't wash their hands! SHUDDER. The doctor was an astonishing sight. Picture a tall, gaunt, blonde woman wearing a lot of makeup and a polyester pantsuit of a sort of iridescent bronze-orange shade. She was towing an IV stand with a bag of a weird yellowish fluid that was actually hooked up to an IV in her own arm as she interrogated the patient. She gave me the creeps. The nurses stuck Madame four times before getting the blood sample they wanted. It was hard to watch. I'd run a mile to get away from that place, but I was glad I was there to provide company for Madame. She requested me to come into the exam room with her so I could remember things for her. I wrote down the essentials and later texted them to her and her daughter.
Did I mention that it was snowing heavily all day? It wasn't a real blizzard, and the roads were pretty clear. But yeah, just to raise the difficulty level a degree or two. Also, she's seriously going to die if she doesn't get out of that house. Note to self (and everybody): If you think you might live to be 85, NEVER move into a tri-level. Also, never pile your extra crap in the garage--the garage where there's the only door that's accessible to you with your walker. (Insert me making Wookiee noises here.) Well, we all got home in one piece and that's the main thing. I rant because I don't want to cry.
I am now going to eat some leftover ice cream cake from my birthday (an excellent choice by the Sparrowhawk) and watch the the men's short program from the European Figure Skating championships.
