Yesterday I received a frantic voicemail from my mother. She was out at the store and needed to talk to me. I called their cell, she didn't answer, so I called the house line and my father picked up. It took several minutes for him to realize who I was, and he sounded very confused. After talking to him I was reminded of my husband's condition when his brain mets started bleeding here and there - it's amazing how very smart people can sound like they are making sense when they really aren't. You have to know them to know that what they are saying is actually crap, because they can deliver it with such sincerity and clarity. But he wasn't making sense, and after about 15 minutes I told him to watch TV and I'd get back to work. She didn't call me again, but I was able to figure out that she had just figured out that the feeding tube would be there a while, maybe forever. Tonight they called and he sounded much better. PT and Speech Therapy starts tomorrow. I'm fairly sure he's had a minor stroke, but his primary won't say for sure and really, what difference does it make? He needs speech therapy and a feeding tube no matter what label you slap on it, if the S word is scary on top of the D word and the Two C words and just plain old age, why say it? My father is annoyed with the feeding tube and is determined to dump it ASAP because he misses eating, and who can blame him? So if he comes back enough he may even relearn how to swallow and eat real food again. Or not - but you never know. Nobody knows at this point. But the situation is as under control as it is going to get, if my mother will just chill the fuck out they'll do fine, at least for now.
I'm going to try to go to my cousin's this weekend. I need beer and laughter - her stories about her cat's encounters with her visiting sister's cat and dog are hilarious! But not because I need cheering up because I'm unhappy - because I'm not. I'm oddly positive and energized about life in general. Maybe it's because Mars is in my sign or something. Good stuff is happening all around me and I'm obnoxiously cheerful.
Work is good. I had one of those happy little moments that only a tired old paralegal can really appreciate - I got to tell a lawyer (very nicely, because I love him to pieces) that he was wrong, in front of my boss (who barely knows me, because this is the Replacement Boss). And lawyer (and this is why I love him to pieces) said, utterly without attitude, "You're right." You who have not toiled in the paralegal trenches can't quite get how cool this is, that a lawyer will concede to a paralegal in front of the president of the company paying his bills, but this guy is a good egg. Last week was good in that regard too, I was able to jump into a big project and bring it to closure. So I'm really liking the job, though it is rather taxing and has an annoying tendency to get busy after 3 p.m., when I am really over the entire work day concept. I seldom leave at 5 lately - I aim for not too long after, but last week's "leave at 3" became "leave at 7" so they owe me. And the nice thing is they know it and said so. So I can't complain about the job right now - I actually feel like I'm where I belong.
And it RAINED today! And rained and rained and is still drizzling, and we are in a major drought and had only a 10% chance today. So even the lawn and the flowers and the fish are doing a happy dance. We just keep on going, because who the hell knows?
2 comments:
Been reading you a lot and realized I haven't been commenting. Just wanted you to know that I'm pulling for you on the parental unit front and am really, really glad that most else is coming together well for you. Big hug.
i completely understand about the parent thing. my mom lives alone (her insistence) in an apartment about 15 minutes from me. however, she doesn't drive, and i don't feel comfortable with the transit system in town (on top of that she's deaf, and my 11 year old son is bigger than she is), so i drive her to her appointments. ALL her appointments. and since she's deaf, i'm her secretary as well. but i figure it this way; she put in some time raising me and my brothers (and she was 38 when she had me, and i'm the oldest!) so i owe it to her to help her. i just don't want to end up "raising" her as my boys are 11 & 13. will have to watch as she gets older (she's 78 right now). keep up the good work , hon, and make sure that your mom understands that while you'll talk to people, that unless they're willing to move closer, she's really going to have to take charge of the whole shooting match, because it's hard to micromanage from 2 hours away (my 2 cents worth, lol)
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