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Crazy Days

2007-05-07 - 10:21 p.m.

Things. Are. Changing. Fast.

Friday, I went to clinical at 7:30 a.m.. I was going to stay until 10:30 a.m. Instead, I got there and got to sit and wait for my preceptor. Someone else saw me and they were like, "You are supposed to be with so and so today, because your preceptor isn't here." And, I was all like, "Fuck that." So, I left. My mom knew I was going to be at clinical until 10:30 and then, drive to dayton for a meeting at horse piss (Ho$pice) so we could learn how to take care of my dad when he came home. She called me at 10:31 and told me to hurry - that my dad was going downhill fast. I told her I had just pulled into the parking lot. I went in and saw my dad - he was agitated and confused and it was hard to see him like that. My mom got upset. My brother showed up. We talked to my dad a little when he was coherent, but it just wasn't happening. My mom was so upset and crying and blubbering all over the place. Her sister showed up to kind of help take care of her. Then, my mom started to get cold. Then, really cold. Then sick. Then, she fell asleep, and woke up when she spewed vomit all over her sister. So, we made a doctor's appointment for my mom - thinking she had the flu or a really bad broken heart. The doctor, who has been our family doctor since I was five, called the ambulance for her when she got to the office. He thought her appendix had ruptured. So, I get a call from my brother telling me that. They did a ton of tests on her all weekend - determined it wasn't her appendix, wasn't her galbladder and wasn't an ulcer. In the meantime, she's in agony because she can't be with my dad. But, they got to talk on the phone a lot over the weekend - I would try to call her when he was coherent, and it was good. He was sad that she was sick and he told her he loved her. So, yesterday, the docs were all like, "Well, let's do one more test to make sure it's not your galbladder." And they did. And it was. So, she had it removed today. I am pissed that it took them THREE days to figure that shit out. And, they had already "determined" it wasn't her galbladder with some other test - remember, too, that this is the same hospital that said my dad's scans of his abdomen only showed a little bit of cancer. Uh - ever think about getting your machines checked, hospital administrators??! Or how about buying ones that fucking work?!?! Anyway - so, my dad has been in and out of it all weekend. Mostly out and when he is awake he is agitated, sees things, and wants to leave. Today, I had to convince him to stay in bed because, if we left then my mom wouldn't be able to find us tomorrow when she is discharged. He listened to that and calmed down for a bit. He keeps asking for her, and sometimes, calling out for her. He just wants to see her and then, I think he's going to leave us. My brother and i have been staying there every night. So, he has seen us - he just misses my mom. And the nurses at horse piss have told us to expect that, once my mom returns tomorrow, he will probably go downhill. He is just hanging on, waiting for her. It is very sweet, if you ask me. And heartbreaking. I still can't believe this is happening. And I hate my emotions now - I cry sometimes, and sometimes, I am just a pissed off little bitch - like I don't even want people to look at me, or I feel like I will go off on them. But, I am not feeling guilty for having these crazy whacked out feelings because, really - who finishes grad school (oh yeah - so insignificant now, but i turned in my final paper last night), watches their dad die, and wait for dumb ass doctors to figure out what is wrong with their mom all in a span of three days? Huh? Who does that, really? I don't think too many people so, if I want to get mad, I can. Oh yeah - speaking of getting mad, I got so pissed off at the Catholic church the other day. Some old retired volunteer guy came in and said he was from some church and asked if my dad wanted communion. My dad was knocked out cold. So, I told him I didn't think so. So, he prayed for my dad and left. Then, he came back in about two minutes later, reintroduced himself and asked if my dad wanted communion. Normally, I would've played along and let this guy just do it all over again. Not this time. I told him he was just there. And the fucker just looked at me like i was the crazy one. Then, he thought about it for a minute, and was like, "Oh. I think I know what I did. Okay. Bye." All I wanted to do was to be left alone. So that is my story about my big sin against the nice Catholic communion carrying volunteer man. God forgive me.
so, that is my crazy ass update. Prolly my next one will be similar to one that the baby moon lady wrote a while ago, when her dad died. I can still see the words on her page: He is gone. I think that will be all I will be able to write. I can't imagine writing or thinking anymore at that time. We'll see, though...

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