The Call

You know, I have gotten calls about my kids. The ones where you are asked to pick them up because they are sick or there is an issue to be addressed. Never thought that I would get one regarding my mother. However, in regards to her, I should always prepare for the unexpected.

I never hated Mondays but the last two have not lived up to the glory that I usual experience. My day started out calm and relaxed. The Bassets were doing well, I was writing, and there was a sense of peace. Then the shit hit the fan. First, Presley started vomiting, so I called the vet who told me to bring her to the office. Once we got there, blood was drawn. While I waited, they shared Daisy’s test results. She has Cushing’s disease. Awesome. While waiting on the blood results, I made arrangements for Bailey to be picked up by my mother-in-law and for her to take him to the dentist. Lots of moving pieces by this time. The blood work revealed very high liver enzymes along with an elevated white blood count. So, $300 later, I left with various medications to add to her vast drug collection.

Once I got home, I exhaled. Thinking that I could relax. Then I got the phone call from my mother’s caregiver asking me to come retrieve her. Because I was caught off guard with the request, I didn’t ask any questions. I thought maybe, they were having car trouble or perhaps a fender bender. Never in my wildest dreams did I think that my mother had fired her caregiver while out running errands. Welcome to the shit show that is currently my life.

I arrived at the location where they were and escorted my mother to the car. The caregiver was in tears while my mother was yammering on about how she fired her because her car was dirty. I will be honest when I tell you that the words coming out of my mouth once I got her in the car, were not loving or kind. Damage control was next where I called the agency to let them know the situation and to emphatically state that the caregiver did nothing wrong. I dropped my mother off and left. The only words I uttered where to expect someone new the rest of the week.

The remainder of the afternoon was spent talking with my sister where we formed a plan that included a phone call to her psychiatrist, and numerous chats with the agency. Amazingly enough, her caregiver wants to continue with my mother. I know, I am shocked too. Personally, I would run for the hills. So, the plan is that we are going to use substitutes the rest of the week while bringing her back on Monday. This will give me time to confer with her primary care doctor to rule out a urinary tract infection. Fun fact, a UTI in seniors can make them coo coo for cocoa puffs.

Friends, I am exhausted. I have no more tricks up my sleeve. There is only one other time where I have felt hopeless and that was when Brian’s drinking was out of control. Look, I know that God has this all worked out but I really need the big guy to let me in on the plan. Christ. On. A. Cracker. If you know someone caring for an elderly relative, give them a hug or perhaps a cocktail. They need it.

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