suck it up, captain cranky

That would be me these past few days. {{OH, and could you kids walking to the student union shriek just a little louder right outside my window there?? I don’t think they quite heard that in Indonesia. Thanks!}}

I know I’m still recovering from spending four looooooooooong days with my parents. Long, long, loooooooooong days. And I want to preface all the complaining I’m about to do by saying I’m SO glad my father’s condition is not nearly as bad as we feared, and I’m SO glad he’s still around to drive me out of my mind and will hopefully be around for a long long time. I’m just TIRED. He had the pacemaker put in on Friday, and had to spend that night in the hospital, to my horror surprise. It was outpatient surgery, which is, generally speaking, outpatient, which does, generally speaking, mean you don’t spend the night there. And they scheduled him to spend the night there, for the outpatient surgery, so it’s not like they decided after doing the surgery to keep him overnight. That wacky VA! He did get to come home first thing on Saturday. And Mama took it better this time, although she did ask me 15,890 times when he’d be coming home and I told her 15,890 times that it would be first thing Saturday.  

Of course when he got home he still was very tired, and days later he’s STILL very tired – he thought the pacemaker would immediately make him feel better, because so many people have told him what a difference it made for them. He wasn’t considering the anemia, though, and according to the nurse who checks my mother’s coumadin levels, that will take some time to fix.

I can’t even remember what I did for all those days now. Other than work like a dock hand. Baker B did arrive on Saturday, so that was some relief. (He said next time he visits, he’s going to wear a shirt that says, "My mom’s fine – thanks for asking!" And I’m considering some placards for the repeato questions so that I can just hold them up over and over – "Baker B’s mom is doing very well", "Simon is asleep in the window", "No the cats have not gotten outside", "Maddy is asleep in the rocker", "Daddy is in the kitchen", "Calico is asleep in the window", "All of the cats are inside", "Yes, we do need to leave that window open, it’s very hot", "Yes, we do need to leave that door open, it’s very hot", "Yes, we do need to leave that fan on, it’s very hot.")

It was very hot. I love heat, but it was very. very. very. hot. It was in the 90s every day I was there. They do not have air conditioning. Which ordinarily is not a big deal – I am not a fan of air conditioning. I like having the windows open and the breeze blowing in. Their house has big windows and ceiling fans and it’s not often that it gets too hot in there. Unless, of course, someone is worried about people crawling in the windows and so they go around shutting every window you open. Mama would go through the house saying, "We don’t need this window open, do we?" And she’d start shutting and locking it. I’d go behind her saying, "Yes, we do need it open, it’s very hot in here." And I’d open it. And ten seconds later she’d say, "We don’t need this window open, do we?" And start shutting and locking it. Then when I’d get her convinced that we really really really needed all the windows AND the front door open, AND the fans on (she kept turning them off too) she’d start reminding me – repeatedly – that we had to shut them before we go to bed. So nobody gets in. This would start around noon. By then I was wishing very much that someone WOULD crawl in the windows and drag me off. Somewhere. Anywhere!!!

"Charles Manson!! It’s GREAT to see you!!!! Let’s get the hell out of here!!!!!"

BOY was I glad to come home. And I SO dread the next round, when Daddy has the surgery. Of course, we don’t know when that will be. He thought he had to call and make an appointment for the surgery, so Monday I tried calling the VA to make the appointment. Everyone I talked to was baffled as to why he’d be told to schedule his surgery over the phone. Well, so was I, but I stay baffled by most things the VA does. Like how they put on his discharge papers for the pacemaker surgery that he was to come back and have the stitches removed on May 17. Like ten months from now. That was the other thing I was trying to straighten out with this phone call. Turns out, after I talked to half the people down there, he has an appointment set up to schedule the surgery. The appointment was on his List of Appointments printout but since it said something about Urology and didn’t say anything about being a surgery consultation, AND isn’t till August 22, I had no idea that’s what it was. Colons and urology don’t seem to belong together to me, but again, I’m no medical expert. So he’s not even scheduling surgery for a month, and who knows how long it will be after that. They are, as usual, in no rush. The good thing is at least one of us can go with him and talk to the doctor about it. In all the time he was at the VA before, none of us was ever there when the doctor came around.

And I better go, despite having many more things to whine/worry about. I’ve got to get back to work. Drama Queen is out because her tooth abscessed and she had it pulled yesterday and she took too many painkillers and THEY made her sick and although she did come in earlier she ended up going home. Aggravation Receptionist continues to complain about her wisdom teeth, which she had removed, what, a month ago?? But are still horribly painful. She’s been back to that dentist and to one or two others, who can’t find anything wrong with her. It could be that the surgeon damaged the nerves. She has one or two more appointments coming up about them. It could also be she’s in competition with Draaaama Queen for who has the most draaaaaaaama. The good thing is it’s very slow and New Guy is still Perfect Employee.