|DIARY OF AN URBAN MILKMAID|
|Whimper, whine, whimper, whine.... That's me.
I got a call from my mother. She said the doctor told her she could go home today. I thought we'd have had more time to figure this stuff out, but no. She wanted to go home right then and there...
I called the nurses station, to find out what was up, and she told me the doctor's orders said she could be discharged "if the family could accommodate" meaning, take care of her - not let her be alone - until tomorrow when the home health nurse wou arrive. Otherwise, she could go home tomorrow Heh.
I told that nurse, nobody could take care of her tonight, and she'd just have to stay one more night at the hospital. I told the nurse to explain that to my mother, and I would follow up with a phone call. Which I did. My mother said she wanted her granddaughter to spend the night with her tonight and she wanted to come home NOW!!! Fuck.
I called her granddaughter, my neice - and she said she would NOT spend the night with her grandmother. I called her father, my brother and he echoed her sentiments. He said we should just go get our mother, bring her home - and check on her this evening. If she croaked over, she croaked over. Her decision...
So, that's what we did.
When we got her all settled, she brought up the subject of her living arrangements. She was more than a little pissed that my brother didn't sound real enthusiastic about them becoming roommates. I told her it was because she had insulted his offer last year - of them living together, and now, when her back was against the wall, she wanted to do it. He was feeling offended. She poo-poo'd the idea that he had his "feelings hurt"... Then, she said "Gee. Why don't you and I live together!" (You know, as if I didn't have a child who is a head-case, legal problems with my ex-fuckhead, a dog and two cats to deal with - I need her too...) I explained that I live in a one-bedroom apartment up three flights of stairs - with the aforementioned head-case, dog and two cats. She says - with a straight face - "well I wasn't talking about us living THERE"
Oh. Forgive the shit outta me for not running home to pack up all our stuff so I can get a 3-bedroom place (that probably doesn't take pets) to live with a woman who is on her last legs...
Well, I didn't phrase it exactly like that, but she was not pleased her offer hadn't been accepted. Grrrrrr.
I have to re-read my entries of about a year ago. When we went through this before, and I nearly lost my mind trying to decide whether to uproot my family to take her in. I have to re-read how I decided my immediate family was more important now. And it is. And I'll just have to live with the guilt.
|Buh Bye! |
October 05, 2008
Be Afraid, People.... Really Afraid
One Last Bitchfest for the Road
Get the Popcorn Ready
I'm a Rich Ho-Bag
|Marriage is love.|