SteppeMice of Zenith
Jul. 9th, 2025 06:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoI'm feeling sad because it's bright daylight out, and there are many things I'd like to be doing, but I really am too tired. Last night, Mademoiselle texted me to ask if I was going to see her mom today. I told her that I planned to go and see Madame this morning, but did not plan to take her out to lunch, because I needed to get home in a timely manner for my second eye surgery this afternoon. She said she would like to meet me at her mom's place. So far, so good. Then one of Madame's paid helpers jumped in to inform me that I must not visit before lunch if I was not going to take her out for lunch, because then I would be interfering with her schedule. She elaborated with some details about how I should organize my visits. I was annoyed, because I don't work for her and I don't need or want her instructions. However, I'm sure she meant to be helpful, so I replied in a pacific manner that I saw her point, but unfortunately, I would not be able to change my time for visiting today. I picked up some coffee and cake for Madame--and a salad in case I was interfering with her lunch--and went over there at the time I had planned.
Her room still smells really stinky, but was slightly less disheveled than last time. She was quite pleased to see me and wanted to sit in her room and chat. I offered her the salad, but she wanted to cut to the chase and eat her lemon cake first, and I say more power to her. She told me of her sad recent discovery that her parents are dead. I guess someone told her . . . . She still thinks that no one is visiting her, although I know that isn't true. She seemed in better spirits than last time. She had a slight meltdown when a staff member came in to apply some medicated ointment. The staff person asked me if I could talk her into changing her clothes, because she's been wearing the same ones for a couple of days now. Madame complained that this is what they do--just take over your life, and just when you think you're having fun, they spoil it all. I suggested she might as well just get it over with and then she wouldn't have to think about it for the rest of the day, and assured her I would not leave while she was getting fixed up. That was the most important part, I think. She was afraid I'd sneak out while she was busy, and then she wouldn't have anyone to talk to. I had been wanting to leave, but I stayed for another half hour or so until she calmed down again. She let them change her clothes, and all was well. Honestly, I've been known to wear things for more than one day myself. I trust this isn't a sign of dementia. Mademoiselle texted me and said she was having an attack of her post-covid chronic fatigue, and could not come over just then, but would try to come later. Eventually I was able to go home. Mademoiselle kindly asked me--for the second time--if I would like to be paid for my time. I declined. I feel that I started out as a friend, and I would prefer to stay that way. I don't want to be considered staff, and you couldn't really pay me enough to do this.
When I got to the eye doctor, I only had to wait for an hour, instead of two hours like last time. They brought us some snacks and water after only 45 minutes. Five out of the seven who were there last week were in the waiting room again, so we chatted some more like old friends. Surviving the same inconvenience creates a sense of solidarity. At last, the doctor cheerily zapped my other eye, and I came home wearing the piratical eye patch the Sparrowhawk obtained for me. Something about an eyepatch suits me--in the sense that it makes me look rather formidable, which I enjoy. Just call me Mad-Eye Moody.
For lunch, I ate the salad Madame declined. My dinner consisted mostly of corn chips with salsa and a little cheese. As I said, I'm too tired.
Her room still smells really stinky, but was slightly less disheveled than last time. She was quite pleased to see me and wanted to sit in her room and chat. I offered her the salad, but she wanted to cut to the chase and eat her lemon cake first, and I say more power to her. She told me of her sad recent discovery that her parents are dead. I guess someone told her . . . . She still thinks that no one is visiting her, although I know that isn't true. She seemed in better spirits than last time. She had a slight meltdown when a staff member came in to apply some medicated ointment. The staff person asked me if I could talk her into changing her clothes, because she's been wearing the same ones for a couple of days now. Madame complained that this is what they do--just take over your life, and just when you think you're having fun, they spoil it all. I suggested she might as well just get it over with and then she wouldn't have to think about it for the rest of the day, and assured her I would not leave while she was getting fixed up. That was the most important part, I think. She was afraid I'd sneak out while she was busy, and then she wouldn't have anyone to talk to. I had been wanting to leave, but I stayed for another half hour or so until she calmed down again. She let them change her clothes, and all was well. Honestly, I've been known to wear things for more than one day myself. I trust this isn't a sign of dementia. Mademoiselle texted me and said she was having an attack of her post-covid chronic fatigue, and could not come over just then, but would try to come later. Eventually I was able to go home. Mademoiselle kindly asked me--for the second time--if I would like to be paid for my time. I declined. I feel that I started out as a friend, and I would prefer to stay that way. I don't want to be considered staff, and you couldn't really pay me enough to do this.
When I got to the eye doctor, I only had to wait for an hour, instead of two hours like last time. They brought us some snacks and water after only 45 minutes. Five out of the seven who were there last week were in the waiting room again, so we chatted some more like old friends. Surviving the same inconvenience creates a sense of solidarity. At last, the doctor cheerily zapped my other eye, and I came home wearing the piratical eye patch the Sparrowhawk obtained for me. Something about an eyepatch suits me--in the sense that it makes me look rather formidable, which I enjoy. Just call me Mad-Eye Moody.
For lunch, I ate the salad Madame declined. My dinner consisted mostly of corn chips with salsa and a little cheese. As I said, I'm too tired.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-11 12:41 pm (UTC)