Has it all got a bit Shakespearean? Something rotten in the State of Denmark? Uneasy lies the bum that sits on the throne?
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I worked for an international organization everyone has heard of, and was hired by people who actually knew me, so I trusted them when they said āpaperwork takes forever here because of the bureaucracyā and started working without the proper contract in place. Three months later, when I was in the HR department to figure out what was going on, they said, literally: why should we buy the cow when weāre getting the milk for free? The HR officer called me āstupidā for starting without having everything nailed down first. She then offered me half the rate Iād been quoted at hire, and at a significantly lower classification (specifically, general service rather than professional, which was a deal-breaker). I walked that day, knowing Iād never be paid for the previous 3 months of work.
Do not assume that just because itās a big company, or a well-known one, that they wonāt screw you.
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My endoscopy was an utter failure. I couldnāt keep breathing with it in my throat. Three tries and now my throat hurts like hell.
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Update: I tried to convince my boss to convert the show to readerās theater. She was reluctant because for some reason she was convinced that this would somehow involve more effort for everyone involved, so it looked like that wasnāt going to happen.
During the meeting, where we discussed this and other things, she got a phone call. The caller told her that the twelve-year old boy playing Nibs would have to drop out of the show because, and as Dave Barry was wont to say āI am not making this up,ā he was suffering complications from a circumcision he had received that morning.
So, weāre doing it as readerās theater.
And I may do shots during the showā¦
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What is readerās theatre?
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There are different variants, but the kind Iām planning on doing involves everyone being seated on stage at the same time, and standing and reading from their scripts as needed. Frankly, Peter Pan is a little bit of an unusual choice for readerās theatre, especially since I had previously cut the show down and tried to put focus on the visual aspects of the show. I will cheat a little and put certain bits of the show on their feet, such as the crocodile, Tinkerbellās near-death throes and probably the kidnapping of the children. Hookās duels with Pan, however, will be replaced with rock-paper-scissors done at our seats.
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Not a penis-haver myself, but my understanding is if youāre old enough to walk and talk, the procedure is very painful and you need time to recover?
Iād usually say ābreak a legā but at this point I donāt want to give anyone involved any ideas.
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I havenāt updated in a whileā¦ things are not great.
Dad has been diagnosed with esophageal cancer. We donāt yet know exactly how bad it is, as there are tests they want to do on an outpatient basis, for insurance reasons. (One of the doctors has implied itās pretty bad but wonāt share any information until the results of the tests.) Dadās been given an injection port for eventual chemo and radiation, and a feeding tube in his stomach since he really canāt get enough food into himself by eating.
Iāve been preparing paperwork to apply for a Family Leave to take care of him, since the treatments theyāre talking about will be Monday-to-Friday and heās likely to need help while at home. Heās been making slow-but-steady progress, but I kind of figured heād be in the hospital for a few more days, and maybe in rehab after that.
Suprise! One of his cast-of-a-thousand doctors came in tonight saying he might go home tomorrow or Monday. Ummm, as much as Iād love to have him home, I was hoping for maybe a little more warning to make sure Iām off work to get him home and have the house 100% ready for him?
I donāt want to sound selfish. Iām truly glad heās improving so much. But one of the few things thatās given me comfort in any of this is that heās got doctors and nurses there to take care of him and manage his pain (heās been on morphine, and more, much of this time.) Iām scared to bring him home. Iām afraid Iām not up to taking care of him, especially if something goes wrong. And with all the pain and stress heās been crankier than usual (and at 73 years old thatās pretty damn cranky.) He is NOT going to be a good little patient for me, guaranteed. Hopefully whatever instructions they give me before they release him will make the difference and lend me some confidence. But right now I feel like I should be gratefulā¦ and I canāt stop worrying.
And as much as Iāve been trying to keep my boss updated this gives her very little time to adjust the schedule. That ought to be the least of my worries right now! I feel even more selfish for worrying about it. But I do worry about it, I canāt help it. Too damn many unknowns, and things move either glacially slow or rocky-rapids fast. And this is only the beginningā¦ itās a marathon, not a sprint.
Iām not quite in it alone. My aunt on my Dadās side has been supportive and a source of comfort. My aunts and uncle on my motherās side have reached out tooā¦ but theyāve been busy themselves, as my grandmotherās been in the same hospital this week, getting her gallbladder out. (Sheās doing well, and she should be graduating to Rehab pretty soon. Yay!) Iām the only child, though, so itās going to be my responsibility to care for him through this.
I hope this doesnāt sound too whiny. I donāt feel like Iām expressing myself very well. Iām just worrying a lot and needed to get some of this off my chest.
And even though this is already way tl;dr, I think Iād like to add one last thingā¦
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I am so sorry to hear this.
I had a friend who had to have surgery; sheās a big girl and her dad is a trim, short guy. Sheās in her early 60ās, her dad is into his 80ās - in good shape, but still, not a spring chicken.
The doctors said, āShe doesnāt need an aide.ā
Uh, how about HE needs an aide because he canāt properly care for her.
Why do doctors see patients in isolation and not as part of a family?
I think you are being perfectly honest about your situation and I am so sorry to hear of your dadās diagnosis.
Being a caregiver will wear you down. Feel free to whine here whenever you need to vent.
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Thank you so much!
I think it will most likely be okay. My fears are running away with me right now. They will be giving me instruction before he comes home, and thereās been talk of a visiting nurse to check in and help out. Itās just one hell of a responsibilityā¦ and itās my dadās health at stake. More than anything I want him well again, I want him to beat this. So Iām going to have to be up for this. And while Dadās no spring chicken at 73, the doctors wouldnāt be sending him home if they thought he wouldnāt do all right there.
Iām definitely going to be looking into some sort of caregiver support groupā¦ whatever help I can find. The rest of it will be one step at a time.
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Our 98 y/o (now 99) neighbour ended up in the hospital after trying to look after his younger sister who has Parkinsonās. Only then was help suggested. And this is in a country where we actually have medical care for average people. I get why privacy reasons lead to thinking of a āsingle patientā, but I would love to see the resources more advertised and available as āfamily assistanceā. Familial Caretaker can be a brutal job and deserves more support.
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Itās extremely common for the caretaker to burn out and have a major health crisis of their own, which then puts them both into jeopardy. I deal with it a lot as co-chair of the caring committee at my temple.
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Iāve always perceived the opposite: doctors always seem to assume there is a large, healthy, not-already-burdened group of family members living nearby who are able to drop everything in an instantās notice and jump into full-time caregiving.
My ex was scheduled for surgery and would have needed two weeksā post-op care. The morning of the surgery, after patient prep, the surgeon came in and said he wasnāt going to do the surgery because heād reviewed the notes the night before and decided the symptoms contraindicative.
Iād quit my student temp job two weeks early in the expectation I wouldnāt be available ā $1,000 lost wages.
I guess what weāre saying boils down to the same thing. Really itās the assumption there are homemakers available.
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Iām so sorry to hear about your dadās diagnosis.
And no, it is not selfish at all to be thinking about the big picture. Youāre trying to arrange things so you can be a caregiver.
Remember on planes during the safety announcement, they tell you to put your own air mask on first and then help other people. You canāt help the other people if you canāt breathe.
I hate to add to your to-do list, but if you can, start finding out what community support is available, and consider asking friends if theyād do spot support too, so you can run errands/get a few hours off when you need it.
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That was just what I was going to say: the assumption is that a wife, mother, sister, daughter, or other female relative will drop everything to do 24/7 care.
I once hired a secretary who was excellent but was finding it hard to find a job because a relative fell ill and her family decided SHE should be the one to move in to her auntās home in another state and take care of her for several years before the grandmother died. Itās hard to get back into the work world with a gap like that in your resume, and most potential bosses wonāt be impressed by the explanation.
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One of the issues with cancer treatment is that there are so many different possible side effects, and thereās no way to know which hundred (or so) are going to be the ones heāll be dealing with. And then whenever one thing is changed, thereāll be a new set of symptoms to deal with. Itās a moving target, so you can only do the best at the moment to try to help. Thatās one reason why having friends-whoāve-been-through-it or a support group at the medical center where heās being treated is crucial: youāll have so many questions the whole time, not just at the beginning.
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As far as working goes, Iām going to look into things like Flex Jobs for things I can do at home while heās recovering. Iāve been wanting to get out of retail for a while now, so that might be a step in the right direction for me. Between that and maybe an online class or two to brush up on some skills, it could help my resume for the future.
Iām a little embarrassed for my earlier post. It was written during a low moment. Iām feeling moreā¦ determined, if not more confident. More information for what the next steps are will help that too. But yes, I definitely need to find some caregiver support. This wonāt be easy, but itās a good fight.
And I thank you all for the suggestions and the support! 
Itās pretty overwhelming, but itās great to know Iāve got friends with me in this. It makes a difference!
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Let me first say I realize this rant Iām about to launch into isnāt in the same league of what is sometimes vented here- I totally understand and Iām not trying to create/imply some sort of equivalence. I just need to get a couple of things off my chest. Stick with me:
My car went to the shop last week for a new air conditioning compressor, oil change, and to have the horn fixed. What I find out is I need new a new CV joint, new engine mounts, a new front lower control arm, new rear shocks, new rear brakes, lost of things lubed and serviced. And a new clutch. And other things.
Ugh.
So I look through their list, and tell them go ahead, but donāt do the AC unit, clutch, or rear shocks. I can live without the AC, and I only drive something like 2k miles a year, so the clutch should be fine for a good long while still. And Iāve replaced the rear shocks on this car before, so I can do that (and save ~$500 in the process). Fine.
So they do and I pick up the car a few days later. Costs a bunch, still, but roughly half the original quote. Meanwhile, I order shocks and get ready to do that job.
Yesterday, I go out to mow the lawn. As I fill the riding mowerās gas tank, I notice the fuel line is cracked and pissing gas all over the place. That wonāt do. So I drain the gas tank, pull the old line, go buy more line, install the new line, and start mowing (finally). Goes great for 2/3rds of the lawn, and then it starts backfiring and stumbling. Seems to be running too rich. Awesome. So I pull the air filter and manage to clean it enough to finish the lawn (and mark a new one to buy). Lawn gets mowed.
Iāve had two small victories of fixing here, so I dive into the rear shocks on my car.
And the lower mount bolt is totally corroded to the shock itself. Absolutely stuck.
So now my right hand is covered in scratches and cuts and my left forearm is covered in bruises. And the bolt still wonāt come out (nor, by the way, will it go back in).
So this morning I get ready to drive my poor broken car (gingerly) to the train station, and I totally manage to back into my sister in lawās car in my driveway. Iād forgotten she stayed at the house last night. Crunch.
Fuck this. Iād really like something I touch to not be a fucking mess.
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Just made an appointment to put my long time friend Mason (the cat) down. I am heartbroken, 
He is 16 years old and been with me since he was a kitten. My daughter picked him out from the rescue cats being hosted at the pet store. He used to be such a big cat and today he weighs only 5 pounds. He is so weak he can barely walk, but as he is not in any specific pain, we are giving him fluids and letting him rest until my husband can be here to say goodbye.
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Iām so sorry.
This gets to me, even as someone who has never owned a pet, and Iām not sure why.
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