Category Archives: Bad Days

What’s Next?! Can We Not Ever Get A Break?

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So many people have said to me, “You guys sure have a lot of bad luck!” That’s for sure! Every time I turn around, something else happens, and I just want to jump off a cliff!

On Friday, I was working in the kitchen when the water suddenly turned off. I thought I had accidentally hit the lever while working, causing it to turn off. When I turned the lever again, the water came back on. But later, when I went to wash my hands in the bathroom, there was no water. Not even a trickle. I went to the breaker box and flipped the switches for the well and pump, and water heater. Still no water. OMG.

When I was talking about it with Dad and my sister, I just about lost it. I started to cry. It’s so depressing when every damn time you turn around, something else goes wrong. I quickly pulled it together, as I always do. I called a well and pump guy, who came yesterday evening. We hoped for a simple fix, but as our luck has proven over and over again, I expected something that would cost us a fortune. A fortune that would come out of the funds for the new house.

I don’t think the Universe wants us to get into the new house. Or maybe the Universe wants us to die in the rubble of this old, crappy house when it falls in on us. Whatever the case, I wish it would just hurry the hell up. I’m tired of the continual bullshit, bad luck, and depression. My sister doesn’t deserve to live through this shit with us. She’s here to help, not get sucked under.

Anyway, the well guy came with a helper. They were at the wellhouse for about 30 minutes. I guessed they were testing this and that. When he came to the door, I let him in, expecting the worst. He said it was the control box for the pump. It got zapped by lightning or damaged by a major power surge. We all remembered just a few days ago when we had a thunderstorm. Ka-BOOM! Lightning had taken out my tower fan. I was thankful at the time that that was all it killed. We didn’t know it hit the control box, too. The guy said that it sometimes takes a few days for it to completely quit working. He showed us how a screw was completely burned, as well as other parts of the box. So, there ya go. $351.26 later, we had water again. At least it wasn’t the pump or a dry well.

I wish we could just win the lottery. Big money. A HUGE jackpot. Then we could get the new house done, take care of bills, and have money to live on for the rest of our lives. I’d help out family and friends. I’d donate the rest to local charities. I know, it’s wishful thinking to think we’d ever win the lottery!

We always get through crap like this, but I’m getting tired of it. Past tired of it. I mean, seriously. How much crap does one family have to endure before shit starts to let up? When will good luck ever come our way? I try to stay positive, but it’s getting old.

I hope you are having a great Sunday! Until next time,

Porky Pig Is A Doctor?

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Dad had an appointment to see a nephrologist (kidney specialist) on Thursday. I have never been so disgusted with a doctor in my life! Our appointment was scheduled for 10:45. We arrived at 10:30. However, there were no signs outside the building to indicate which doors led to the doctor’s office. My sister went inside one set of doors to ask and was told it was the right place. So, I dropped my sister and Dad off at the doors, and then I parked the car.

When I stepped inside the doors, I was shocked! Junk everywhere. In a review, another person said it was like a flea market, and that’s pretty damn close. Dad filled out his forms, and he was called back. I went with him. He was weighed and has actually gained weight, thank goodness. We walked through even more junk up to that point. It was 11:20am. We were put in a room where we sat and waited. And waited. And waited some more.

Dad was getting as bitchy as I was. It was after 12pm, and we had had enough waiting. I was snippy with the nurse (who wasn’t dressed like a nurse at all), but who could blame me? Dad needs to rest in the comfort of his own home. No one should have to wait that long! I asked the nurse how much longer it would be, and that we had been waiting for over an hour. She said there was one patient ahead of us and that the doctor would be with us shortly. To which I replied, “That is IF we don’t get fed up and leave before that.” I guess she got the “doctor” moving because it wasn’t long before he came in.

The “doctor” was dressed in shorts and sandals, with no ID on him, nothing at all to indicate he was a doctor. I hate to say things about people’s weight, but this guy was a short, fat slob. He reminded me of Porky Pig.

Dr. Porky was curt with us, barely took Dad’s BP. What I mean is, he put the cuff on Dad, put the stethoscope ear pieces in his own ears, and pumped the bulb twice. He listened for 2 whole seconds and tossed the whole thing back in its place. In my experience, it takes more than 2 quick pumps to read a person’s BP. Dr. Porky pointed out Dad’s swollen feet and commented, “Congestive Heart Failure.” He then asked, “Are you drinking liquids?” Dad said, “I try to, but probably not enough.” To which Dr. Porky replied, “Drink more liquids.” I tried to tell Dr. Porky that today Dad was probably dehydrated because we had been on the road and HERE all damn day! Of course, he ignored me. He said he wanted blood work and that he would call us with the results. He said he wanted to see Dad in 3 months. On his way out the door, he looked at me and said, “He needs to drink 2 – 3 quarts of water every day.” And again, I tried to tell him that Dad’s dehydrated today because we had been waiting here all day, but usually he does drink a lot of water. Then Dr. Porky was gone, as if I hadn’t spoken a word. He was rude. He was very unprofessional, as was the nurse. The nurse practically tossed the new appointment card at me. And this Dr. Porky, the slob, the rude son of a bitch, wants to see Dad again in 3 months? I think not. Of course, it’s up to Dad if he wants to go back. I just might give them a piece of my mind the next time. It was 12:30pm when we finally left that POS office and Dr. Porky.

Oh, and get this! My sister was in the waiting room the whole time, and she said she heard Dr. Porky yelling at a patient! I dare the son of a bitch to yell at me or Dad! I am going to leave negative reviews everywhere!

Do you have any bad experiences with doctors? I have had many, but none like this one. I’m still in disbelief. How can anyone stay in business like this? Good grief!

Take care of yourselves, friends! Until next time,

Stress, Worry, and Pain

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Where to start?! So much has happened in the last week, it’s just kind of a blur. I’ll start on July 4th, which seems like such a long time ago!

Last Friday, Dad and I headed out for a Walmart curbside order. We picked up our order, stopped for gas, and headed home. When we got home, Dad said he had to pee but that he wasn’t going to make it to the toilet so he stepped to the side of the yard and did his business. We live out in the boonies, so there’s no one around to see anything. While Dad was doing his thing, I was unloading the trunk and putting our groceries in the utility cart so we could lug it into the house. All of a sudden, I heard a yell, and when I looked up, Dad was on his hands and knees trying to get up.

He wasn’t injured, and he was coherent. He had just lost his balance and went down. He’s been doing this off and on for the last year or so but never outside. I rushed over to help but there’s nothing for him to hang onto in order for him to help me help him get up. Does that make sense? I tried and tried to get him up, but it just wasn’t working. I hobbled myself into the house to get the bathlift, which is like the lift they advertise on tv for the elderly when they fall. The only difference is that the bathlift is heavier. I tried to help him get his butt on the seat but he couldn’t sit up enough for it to work. He got so weak trying to get up that he just couldn’t anymore.

I called 9-1-1 at this point because I knew I wasn’t going to be able to do this without help. I told the dispatcher I needed help getting him off the ground and to please hurry because he’s in the sun! I was almost in a panic when Dad became unresponsive. There he was lying there IN THE SUN, and I was helpless. I grabbed our wet towels we had in the car (to help us stay cool because the a/c is on the fritz) and I wet them down more, and laid them across Dad’s head and back to help keep him cool. The ambulance was taking its sweet time! I called 9-1-1 again. The dispatcher asked for the address again. I told her AGAIN. I think I called 3 times and each time I told her that Dad was on the ground and IN THE SUN, and that I couldn’t get him up.

By this time, our neighbor, Mike, who is a volunteer firefighter, came to help. Two other helpful men came over, also volunteer firefighters, but honestly I have no clue who showed up first. We got more towels to drape over him and one guy had an umbrella he used to keep the direct sun off of Dad.

Finally, the ambulance came. One of the paramedics told me that the dispatcher gave them the wrong address, plus she never relayed the message that this was a heat related incident. I am so angry at that woman! They took Dad to the hospital. I was so hot and stressed out by then, I went inside and jumped in the shower, A COLD SHOWER, to be exact. I just sat there on the shower chair and cried as I cooled off. It was awful. I prayed that Dad would be ok. Then off to the hospital I went.

I had to talk to so many people, and I was dehydrated, so my mouth and throat became so dry I couldn’t talk unless someone brought me some water. They did, and it helped, but not very much. They took Dad to ICU and then they brought me to the ICU waiting room. At this point, I started texting people to let them know what had happened. It didn’t look great for Dad. He was still unresponsive and his temperature had been at 104 degrees when he came in. They were able to get his temp down to normal and he was on all kinds of IV drips and holy crap, it was awful seeing him like that! He was also on a ventilator. He suffered severe burns on his calves from the fabric of his pants touching his skin. IT WAS THAT HOT.

I don’t remember who came first. It could have been my son, since he lives closest but I can’t be sure. The grandkids (Dad’s great grandkids) started coming. I was so overwhelmed by everything, it’s just so blurry. The next day, my sisters and my brother in law came in from Tennessee. My daughter had just been here a couple of weeks before this happened. She had been worried that something would happen and that she’d not been able to see him. I’m glad she came when she did. Work interfered with her coming at this time because she just started as manager of a new Pizza Hut when she got home from her visit.

As the days have gone by, Dad has slowly showed improvement. He came off the vent with a throat sore he couldn’t talk. As the swelling came down, his speech improved. Still not at 100% so it’s a little hard to understand him. He had been on a diet of puree and thickened liquids until yesterday, when they changed it to a mechanical diet. That means he can eat things like meat but it looks like it’s been chewed up already. LOL. His burns are healing. They took him off the IV drips yesterday. They have had him up walking. It tires him out terribly but he’s doing better.

As I was leaving yesterday, they were getting a regular room ready for him. From here they want him to get some physical therapy to make him stronger so we found a place closer to home that takes his insurance. He will be moving there soon, but it’s only temporary, until he’s stronger and can come home. Please pray that he does well enough to come home.

In case you don’t know, I am disabled and can only walk with crutches. This proved to be very difficult for me to get across the hospital parking lot to the building. Every day. When my sisters were here, my youngest sister got a transport chair and pushed me around, making it easier on me. After they left though, I was on my own. I am not strong enough to get my wheelchair in the car otherwise I would have been able to wheel myself around. They have a guy that drives a cart around the parking lots, giving people rides but I had a difficult time getting on and off of that thing so I just walk. I’m in so much pain I just want to sit on my ass and not move at all. This morning my arms and shoulders are sore from using the crutches, I assume. I was going to go see Dad today, but I don’t think I can do that walk again.

I may have forgotten some details but I think you can understand all that happened. It’s been such a short time but it seems like it’s been weeks. I miss Dad not being home. It’s been difficult, mentally and physically. Tomorrow’s my birthday and Dad won’t be here. We don’t celebrate our birthdays really but it’s many, many years (30+) that he’s not been here on my birthday. It seems so strange.

I now need to figure out how I can get that new house finished so when Dad comes home it’s to a nice house instead of a dump. That’s the focus. My family might be coming back and I think they will help me get things figured out. Fingers crossed that all goes well. I will keep you all posted as best I can. Please pray for us!

Until next time,

PS I apologize for spelling and grammar errors. I’m lucky I can even see straight at this point.

Little Shits

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I’m starting this month out just great…or ending this year great. Not sure which. This morning at 5:10am I was up to go to the bathroom. After I got settled back in my chair, with ear plugs and eye mask, I was nearly killed by Jack and BobCat, who insisted on fighting. I sleep in my lift chair and the two little shits were bouncing on and off me as they ran through the house. I was getting pissed because Jack is just too aggressive and I was afraid I’d be clawed to death, stuck in the middle of a cat fight. 

So, after they declined to knock it the hell off, I decided to get up and put the fear of God in them. I’m not really sure what happened as I am always very careful. I think I lost my balance trying to put my shoes on. I normally put my shoes on before I stand up. Anyway, I lost my balance and down I went. HARD. On my right thigh/hip. Damn. I cried. 

Dad heard me fall and was horrified! There I was. Sprawled out on the living room floor in tears. I knew nothing was broken but damn, my leg hurt. I thought, how the hell am I going to get off the floor? I have grab bars strategically placed throughout the house for exactly this reason. Little did I know it would still be nearly impossible, for me to get up. I had to scoot about 20 feet to get to the grab bar. Then, because my knees are in such sad shape, I couldn’t bend them to pull myself up. I had Dad bring my shoes, which I call mock crocs, so I could get better traction. Nope. That didn’t work. I had Dad get the gait belt with handles so maybe he could help a little. Nope. Not yet. We have a 3″ step that sits between the kitchen and the laundry room because there’s a 5″ step that’s difficult for me. The 3″ step helps a little. I had Dad bring that over to me and I slid that sucker up under my fat ass. The thought was that maybe if I were up a little higher, that would help. It did help, but poor Dad probably strained himself trying to help from behind, grabbing the handles of the gait belt and pulling me up. Holy crayoli. I was up. It only took 45 minutes. 

Now, I sit here in pain. My right leg is killing me. Nothing broken but holy crap, the spot on my hip where I landed is tender to the touch. By tonight it will be purple, I’m sure. Oh, and my arms will hurt, too. 

Great way to start December or to end the year? Which do you think?

The Night Dad Scared The H*ll out of Me

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It’s getting to be too much for both of us. Getting groceries, that is. I always place a curbside order once a week. I try to limit items to no more than 20. It never fails I end up with more than 20 because one of us forgot we needed toilet paper or paper towels or something else.

Dad and I pick up the order, which is the easy part. (Good grief, I hope Walmart never discontinues this service!) When we get home, I load bags of groceries into a utility cart. Heavier items go on the bottom, of course. Dad pulls the cart up the ramp and into the house. The problem is, we still have some heavy items like water and kitty litter. I use our lunch cart for those items; I bring the cart to the door and Dad carries those items to the door and puts them on the cart. It’s not far because I pull right up to the ramp. When all is unloaded, I tell Dad to go change his clothes so he can sit and rest. I unload the groceries from the utility cart and put things away.

Dad changed his clothes and sat down in his chair to rest. He was exhausted and went to sleep. He fell asleep off and on for the rest of the day. Later, he watched a movie or something on the Firestick. I was in the kitchen doing a puzzle, listening to an audiobook.

When it crept closer to 10pm, which is his bedtime, I knew he had fallen asleep because he was so quiet. Normally, I hear him cough, laugh, talk to one of the cats, or more often than not, drop something like the remote. He falls asleep in his chair all the time so I didn’t think twice about it…until it was 10:15 and he was still not even getting ready for bed. Usually, he gets ready for bed around 9:45.

I went to check on him and there he was fast asleep. I saw his chest rising and falling but he was out like a light! I called out to him to tell him what time it was. He didn’t wake up. I called out louder and still, he didn’t wake up. I sat down in my chair to give the furbabies their Temptations snacks, as per our normal routine. Trust me, they were all sitting by my chair waiting. They knew it was past time! 

I kept trying to wake Dad, getting louder and still, nothing. Finally, I touched his hand and tried again to wake him. He just would not wake up! I shook his arm; still nothing. I shook harder and finally, thank God, he woke up! He scared me to death. I thought I had lost him. I just cried in a huge wave of relief. He had no idea what was going on. 

I dread the day I have to say goodbye to this man who has truly been there for me my entire life. He is closer to a best friend than I’ve ever had in my life. (Even closer than the best friend I actually had, who come to find out, was judging me all along.) He has helped me raise my kids when their father couldn’t be bothered to write to them. We have shared many things, including finances and health issues.

Losing Dad will be the biggest loss I will ever face.