Difficult
When things are difficult, which they are at the moment because of the Communist's illness, I find I can cope with the big things, partly because I have no choice.
So the endless pestering of doctors, hospitals, nursing home to get such basic things as the correct medication - - those I can do. But it does seem endless.
Why, for example, didn't they bring him any insulin? - - Well, a bit of investigation showed that on his notes it said "self-medication" for insulin. So they didn't bring it to him, because they assumed it was in his room. But, of course, it needs to be kept in the fridge, and that was where it was, and that was why he hadn't got it. My brother worked this one out.
Yesterday, they were still offering him morphine - which had made him terribly ill - instead of the new drug that the doctor had prescribed. And they had given him the wrong dose of statins. He's a pharmacist. He notices these things.
I rang the nursing home. "Please could you chase up the new drug he's supposed to be on? And also please could you give him 20mg of statins and not 10mg because that's the correct dose?"
"- - Oh, sorry love, I don't know anything about that, you'll have to ring his GP."
I rang his GP and spoke to the receptionist.
"Could you pass on a message please? Please could you ask Dr Dolittle to follow up the new drug that the Communist's supposed to be on because the nursing home don't seem to know about it. And please could you ask Dr Dolittle to get them to give him the correct dose of statins?"
"I'll ask Dr Dolittle to ring you when he finishes."
"No, I don't want that. I don't need to speak to him. I am on a film set and my phone is on silent. I won't be able to answer it. And I won't be able to ring back because your phone is usually engaged. Please could you just PASS ON THE MESSAGE?"
"Oh, well I'll have to write it down then - - "
It all seems to require me to be pleasant and very, very assertive at the same time. This has been going on for a few weeks now and I'm coping, but it's very wearing.
So - big things - I'll cope.
Little things - - well - -
I took three bags of clothes to the recycling place at the supermarket. The clothes bin had one of those metal windows that you pull foward to put the clothes in, and then you push it back.
I couldn't reach the handle to open it. And I'm not that short - five feet four is not tiny. I jumped up and down. No good. I looked for something to stand on. Nothing. I looked to see if there was anyone about. Nobody.
I dumped the three bags on the ground, swore very loud and very long, burst into tears, and left.
So the endless pestering of doctors, hospitals, nursing home to get such basic things as the correct medication - - those I can do. But it does seem endless.
Why, for example, didn't they bring him any insulin? - - Well, a bit of investigation showed that on his notes it said "self-medication" for insulin. So they didn't bring it to him, because they assumed it was in his room. But, of course, it needs to be kept in the fridge, and that was where it was, and that was why he hadn't got it. My brother worked this one out.
Yesterday, they were still offering him morphine - which had made him terribly ill - instead of the new drug that the doctor had prescribed. And they had given him the wrong dose of statins. He's a pharmacist. He notices these things.
I rang the nursing home. "Please could you chase up the new drug he's supposed to be on? And also please could you give him 20mg of statins and not 10mg because that's the correct dose?"
"- - Oh, sorry love, I don't know anything about that, you'll have to ring his GP."
I rang his GP and spoke to the receptionist.
"Could you pass on a message please? Please could you ask Dr Dolittle to follow up the new drug that the Communist's supposed to be on because the nursing home don't seem to know about it. And please could you ask Dr Dolittle to get them to give him the correct dose of statins?"
"I'll ask Dr Dolittle to ring you when he finishes."
"No, I don't want that. I don't need to speak to him. I am on a film set and my phone is on silent. I won't be able to answer it. And I won't be able to ring back because your phone is usually engaged. Please could you just PASS ON THE MESSAGE?"
"Oh, well I'll have to write it down then - - "
It all seems to require me to be pleasant and very, very assertive at the same time. This has been going on for a few weeks now and I'm coping, but it's very wearing.
So - big things - I'll cope.
Little things - - well - -
I took three bags of clothes to the recycling place at the supermarket. The clothes bin had one of those metal windows that you pull foward to put the clothes in, and then you push it back.
I couldn't reach the handle to open it. And I'm not that short - five feet four is not tiny. I jumped up and down. No good. I looked for something to stand on. Nothing. I looked to see if there was anyone about. Nobody.
I dumped the three bags on the ground, swore very loud and very long, burst into tears, and left.
posted by Daphne at 12:18 am
2 Comments:
I can't imagine the stress in your life right now and I hope it lessens soon.
I'd say 'take a pill' but given your post, it may be in the fridge next to the insulin.
This may seem either obvious, daft, or heartless, but it isn't meant to be any of those. The stupidly high clothes chute was something you could safely 'let go' about about, and let out some of the stresses from everything else.
Please ask the Yeti for a big hug.
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