Things seemed to be moving along relatively well with my parents so when I got my Mom’s phone early yesterday morning at work my heart kind of dropped. She just had that tone in her voice—-I knew she was upset about something. Well, it turns out she has a diabetic ulcer on her foot and it had gotten worse and the top of her foot was bleeding and they couldn’t get the bandage off. She called her podiatrist’s office and they said they could get her an appointment in a couple of weeks. Gee thanks. They said she should go to convenient care or the emergency room.
So I headed over there—got there and there homecare person told me it was her last day. OOOO. K. I’ll think about that later I told myself. So after spending quite some time searching closets for clothes my Mom could wear–as the only pair of her pants that my father could find were in the wash–we took off for convenient care. I was afraid if she went to the emergency room they would somehow siphon her off to the hospital and I would have to bring my Dad to our house and we’re having people over tonight damn it. So anyway—ended up seeing a doctor in family medicine who sure didn’t like the look of her foot. So some antibiotics and today a two hour appointment at the wound clinic.
I was supposed to take her to the cardiologist yesterday afternoon but we canceled that. I figured since I’d be busy with her this afternoon I could be productive yesterday instead. HA. Ernie and I sat around reading recipes for barbecued pork and watched Leo, Luke, Duncan and Owen race around the house eating more popsicles than they should. Later we dunked the guys in the bathtub and then sat outside in the front yard with our neighbors Gail and Jeff, watching bats and talking until it was dark and way past the boys’ bedtime. So much for being productive.
It’s funny—just yesterday morning I was thinking that I was finally feeling rested and caught up on sleep. I was so stressed out about this stuff though that when I got home I felt exhausted again. Made me realize how much of my tiredness is because of stress. Sometimes I think it’s because of this or that—-and not that being thinner or exercising more would hurt—but I realize that my reaction to stress is to be tired….oh well.
Sooooo, cross your fingers that this doesn’t get too bad. Cross your fingers that my father will be o.k. by himself while we’re at the wound clinic. Cross your fingers that my mother doesn’t fight me on getting another home care person. Cross your fingers that I don’t get too tired from worry. Just cross your fingers…..