Get me someone who won't crack under pressure.

How about Mr. Rogers?

It's a shittiful day in the neighborhood. My father was sent home from the hospital today, in the classic indifferent clusterfuck manner that is apparently normal hospital procedure. Home health care was supposed to be ready, they weren't. Someone was supposed to show up to train my mother on the feeding tube - they didn't show. The pharmacist caught the prescriptions he was given and said they'd interact badly with his heart meds and he'd have to call the doctor. This is just fucking wonderful. So she's home with him, has no idea what to do and calls me. As if I can do anything at all?

Meanwhile, I worked from 8 until 7, the 4th long day this week, fueled on 2 Diet Cokes, about 8 pretzels, and a lot of rage. During this time I talked to the doctor once and my mother twice. Long calls. She's flipping out from the stress, and I don't think she's going to be able to handle this without a lot of support from hospice. They are supposed to show up tomorrow. So I'll try to get there early and be there to talk to them too. The doctor (who sounds like an okay guy but not impressively doctorly, if you know what I mean) has no real explanation for the inability to swallow - it could be this, it could be that. But otherwise, my father's condition is stable and may even improve. Or not. Who knows? The conversation was less than satisfying.

Me, I'm getting increasingly UN-stable, and tomorrow's recon mission is, I hope, not the first of many slogs across the state triggered by panicky phone calls. I am going to size things up, talk to hospice people, and leave as soon as decently possible. I am too fucking tired and stressed for this right now. I have had an insane week and I'm not 25 years old and I'm not going to ruin my health for this. If I sound like a bitch, I earned it. I could tell you stories, yet I'm trying to be a responsible daughter here. I saw this day coming and did everything in my power to get them to move over here. BTW, in case you are wondering, they are not in the Old Family Homestead, surrounded by friends they don't want to leave. Fuck no - they are in a house in an "active adult" community where they have never been active or made any friends. There is no support system there and his doctors are not exactly the goddamn A Team. I tried to get them to move, I would have arranged everything, I would have found them other doctors in nationally ranked facilities, but...no. I'm willing to be a good responsible daughter, but they are not willing to meet me halfway, so my role is limited. Their choice, whatever.

I'll be in bed at 9. I think I screwed up a row on that extremely simple shawl, but I don't have the energy to think about it right now.