Sunday, May 03, 2015

Just another episode

Before I start with the ranting and you don't want to read about my pain and family, focus on the jewellery.  Now this is the kind of ring I would want to wear all the time, no it's not flashy, it's Australian and we're never flashy, more expensively classy.  It's a bi-colour Sapphire, green, gold, green.  I have a small one of blue/green/gold in a triangle shape but not enough diamonds to make it up to look like this. It's well made, look at the length of the claws holding the stone and four claws holding each diamond.  

Now just keep looking while I snivel.
Did I not tell the Stomal therapist to be careful in regard to mother?  Apart from the allergic reaction to the adhesive of everything new she used, she never bothered to ring me or write a report for the Home.  I did receive 3 accounts of $115 each and had to check that she had made 3 visits instead of the two I knew about.  She is coming again to try something new and won't charge this visit, woot!
Too bad then that on Thursday afternoon, Mother decided to go a bit doollally and on Friday morning she couldn't wake up.  Not wouldn't, couldn't, she was asleep but knew she couldn't wake and the PCA on the other side of the closed eyes couldn't wake her. Eventually she did wake up and I went in as usual to be a Death Watch beetle by the bedside.  She had a temp but when she drifted off to sleep she started to shake badly which is when we found the Cellulitis across stomach, down to leg and around the back, big flare up.  Sister said I cannot blame ST because mum has no immune system but shit yes I can because I warned her repeatedly to read her files and be very careful.  Bitch sister went down yesterday and said she couldn't see what I was worried about, stayed half an hour and left. (a brick with her name on it is waiting)  Bitch ST is going to be paid but by cheque which I will post sometime next week or longer and she won't get the money for doing bloody nothing.

But I am in pain, couldn't get to the pharmacy for arthritis pills and I'm two days without them and can't walk, can't do my bra up, can't get shoes on and then they ring and ask me to come in.  Crap! So race up to Southland, get pills and several boxes of painkillers which they didn't want to give me until I explained that I take the appropriate painkiller for the level of pain I'm in. Since by this time I'm flat on the counter in a sweat, they give me what I want then I couldn't get the fck'n little arthritis pills out the fck'n childproof pack because my hands are fck'n hurting.  
Hurtle down to the Home to find mother is okay but the idiot in charge only wanted to update the records of palliative care for the Accreditation Team due in next week.  Would my mother want prayers said, would she like music, would she like the whole family with her or just a few (I am the fck'n few), would she go to hospital or stay at the Home.  Jesus H on a stick, I filled all this stuff out 6 years ago and this dill asked me why.  Because when she went in, she was palliative care and was only thought to last 4 months AND THEY LOOKED AFTER HER SO WELL, SHE'S STILL BLOODY HERE 6 YEARS LATER. Pardon the yelling because I've just had another call from the Home telling me the infection is spreading and the dumbarse in charge has sent a fax to Doc Marvin's office for him to read tomorrow.  Big bloody notice on mum's file says RING DOC MARVIN AT ANY TIME.  The man checks call centre, mobile phone and medical centre when she's ill but he probably wouldn't check the fax machine when they've just closed for the day.  

I have taken so many different pills over the last few days that I am now almost pain free, and can drop the doses, well I was until a minute ago, now I am going to search for that box of Cadbury's Roses I hid weeks ago and find the Magnum I know is at the back of the freezer.  It's time for self medication of a more pleasant kind.

And all this is happening when I have $205 left on my taxi card which means I've spent $2000 on fares since June 30 last year because of fck'n emergencies.

Magnum is Honeycomb.  I ate the espresso one last time I self medicated.


River said...

"Pardon the yelling"?
of course. you could yell the entire post and be forgiven. ST sounds like a complete fool. boy your mother is a toughie. Like British Paints, she keeps on keeping on.
Hope the box of Roses is big enough.
The ring is gorgeous.

iODyne said...

one time I worked for a guy, bigtime Toorak/Portsea and when he saw SUMMONS his brain read it as 'Reminder'.
be like that. that's how the rich get that way.

Ann ODyne said...

oh Coppy I could cry.
IF only the fvckwitz could read this post.
Should you come to grief rushing there to repeat a form, I shall make it my own personal thrill to give them a day they won't forget.
fvk the music flowers and location too.
Let me remind you that I know how to complete a burial alone. No catering, no flowers - what's the point of that?
death is not a stage production.

Bravo that you could stash medichoction until an emergency. I have less willpower than that so I curtsey deeply.

Elephant's Child said...

Scream and yell for all you are worth.
Like Ann ODyne, my heart aches for you, and my eyes are a bit wet.
And I am wishing rather a lot of unpleasant things on that oxygen stealing ST.
Love the ring, but it fades into insignificance against the pain you are in. Physical and emotional.

JahTeh said...

River, now that I've had my ice-cream I am quite mellow. 7 minutes until cat feeding time and I will feed myself.

Stacks, I will be very tardy with payment, crisis might even make me forget to sign the cheque. Account didn't have phone number either but bank account so they could have the money faster.

Annie, of course funeral, they have the best catering there I've ever eaten and I've already made the casket lace cloth. They meant the actual dying for days stuff but if there is a god, she goes quietly in her sleep. But I can see me doing the Death Watch beetle.
I just discovered mint slice biscuits in the square tin that takes one packet for emergencies. I thought I'd eaten those.

EC, you are in just as much pain as I am and you live within sight and sound of the Mad Monk as well. Why don't you threaten that surgeon with medical misconduct if he operates on the skinny one again.

Helen Balcony said...

So sorry Jahteh. You're doing a great job looking after mum but who is looking after you? Does the BOH help out?