Fussing
Hey, it's been a bit of a tough week, so I'm gonna blog about it.
Weirdly I feel like I should start with a disclaimer: I realize, that in some actually very real and very serious ways, the world is going nuts. People and human rights are in jeopardy. These are real things, and I do not wish to devalue them, or make it seem like I am unaware of them, with my whining about my (relatively) little problems. But also, my problems are real to me, and frankly - I don't whine about them much of anywhere else. So. Whining.
We're going to start with last Friday. Last Friday, I was at an Amtgard event. This is not actually relevant, except that it was in King City, which is about halfway to the Bay Area. I recieved a call that evening, from my dad, regarding my grandma. Now, my grandmother is 92, and her health is, correspondingly, a little bit sketchy. A couple weeks prior to this, she had fallen, and broken a few ribs. (Oh boy, look how much fun those bone density problems are going to be!) So, hospital. Wherin they put her on a pain medication with side effects including a sense of time dilation, confusion, and paranoia. The first night they had her on this, when my aunt Joan had gone home for the evening, and they were going to move her to a different room, she thought she was being kidnapped for nefarious biological experiment purposes (yes, grandma, we have read some of the same books, haven't we...) so she panicked and *tried to escape*, and *punched two nurses*, before they strapped her down to her bed. WTF. Then it took a further 3 days to convince the doctors that she was not, in fact, suffering from dimentia, but that she was having a side effect of the pain meds. (Have I mentioned that my grandmother is 5' nothing and weighs less that 90 lbs right now?) Anyway, she was recovering from rib damaged, got moved to a care facility, got pnumonia, went back to the hospital to have fluid drained from below her lungs, went back to the care facility, and then (on Friday) she was having trouble breathing, and was in pain, and wasn't able to eat. So she was back to the hospital, and my dad was calling me to tell me she was there, and not eating, and waiting on a procedure, and also my mom and Joan were there, and that, really, there was no telling what was going to happen, and she might pass away suddenly. Or not.
Now, it's not like this is terribly unexpected, but I'm not certain I'll ever take the news of the probable death of a loved one particularly well. So there was some crying, and some not very good sleep.
Saturday was, in some regards, less sucky. I called my mom and asked if I should drive the rest of the way to the Bay on Sunday after my event. I did event stuff and did not totally suck, despite being distracted. And then I went to go help out in the kitchen, and managed to slice my finger open but good. (It is still bandaged, and while I am like 87% sure it doesn't need stitches, it is deep enough that it's going to take forever to heal. Also, I did not know how often I used my index finger on my left hand to brace things until it was injured and hurt like a bitch whenever I applied pressure.)
Sunday, did the drive. Saw the grandma. I was prepared, having seen my grandfather go from a strong man to a frail body, how bad this could be, so that didn't hit me too hard. Which is not to say it was fun. It was not fun, especially since she was in pain, and because they were waiting for a procedure that day, she hadn't had any water, and was so dry-mouthed she could barely speak. On the plus side, when she could muster the energy, she did crack a few very dry jokes, so that's working. (Also, the procedure never happened, they had to reschedule it due to the doctor having an emergency. Which I get, but fuck, let them know ASAP and give the old woman some damn water.) Saw my mom and my aunt, who were, miraculously, not at each others' throats. In short, I went, I saw, I said what I needed to say. And... it's ok. We still don't know what's going to happen next; she may recover ok, or she may drop dead. But I think, whatever happens next, that I will be ok. Not happy, but ok.
Monday I had a day off. Griffin is sick. (Had been since Thursday, actually, but by Monday the fever had gone down, so it was just coughing, sneezing misery.)
Tuesday, back to work. Generic frustration about having been gone and how ain't nobody can do shit right if I'm not there. Seriously. I am still finding shit that went wrong in my absence. My personal favorite is that we "didn't have enough postcards" for a mailing we were doing. Weird, but plausable. Come to find a couple days later, no, we did, but you fucking stamped a couple and mailed them without putting the labels on, so they got returned in the mail. Granted, in the greater scheme of things, a couple of postcards and a couple of stamps is no big deal, but damn, I am impressed you messed that up. So impressed that I'm going to try really hard not to use this particular temp again, because this is not the first time she's done dumb shit while watching my office.
Wednesday, Griffin is starting to experiance some pain in his jaw along with the coughing.
Thursday, my boss gets sick (Including pink eye. Nope, nope, nope.). Griffin still sick, now in... rather a lot of pain.
And then today. Griffin's birthday. I went to work (Boss still sick of course, but came in for an appointment.), and found out that we had some tax forms which had been sent out that needed corrections. I know that at least one of these clients has already filed. And of course, it's a client who can be really challenging to work with. Spent half the day procrastinating calling because I didn't want to get yelled at, then chickened out completely and sent them an e-mail instead. (It was the official e-mail that they suggested we send. It was legit. Also, totally going to get yelled at on Monday.) Boss went home mid-day, needed car jumped, so I jumped his car. This is where things get good. After work, I go down to my car, planning to head home and comfort Griffin as best I can. Car won't start. Asked someone for a jump - it didn't work. Panicked slightly. Called a tow-truck, called my repair guy. He said possibly the starter, and that's gonna run me $500. I just paid $500 for new tires last week, so this does not put me in a good mood. Seriously debated scrapping the car, but wouldn't have a good way to get to work. Here, though, it starts to all look up again. I get towed, the mechanic looks at it and talks to me, and maybe, maaaybe it's a burnt-out fuse or battery problem. Which would be less expensive. We'll find out tomorrow. I get home (having gotten a ride from a friend, becasue Griffin is apparently on pain meds and can't drive), at which point I get to check in with Griffin. Long story short, he went to an emergency dentist, got some x-rays, and found out that *over four years ago*, when he cracked a tooth at Amtgard, the shot *also* cracked one of his wisdom teeth, but went unnoticed. So, guess who just got a wisdom tooth out?! Honestly, this is excellent news, because he is in way less pain now. Mostly from the drugs, but with the tooth actually removed, it should heal up and not be an issue in the future. (This message is brought to you by See Your Goddamn Dentist on a Regular Basis)
In summary: I currently am without my car. Griffin is still sick, but is not going to be in heinous pain in the future. (Though he also had just about the worst birthday I can think of.) My last grandparent could die anyday without notice. I can't use my left index finger. Also, if I don't get a cold out of this week, it will be a miracle.
... and... I'm not sure why I'm whining. Honestly, this all seems to be turning out ok.
But sometimes, you just need to air your shit.
Alright. Let's get back to trying to save the world.
Weirdly I feel like I should start with a disclaimer: I realize, that in some actually very real and very serious ways, the world is going nuts. People and human rights are in jeopardy. These are real things, and I do not wish to devalue them, or make it seem like I am unaware of them, with my whining about my (relatively) little problems. But also, my problems are real to me, and frankly - I don't whine about them much of anywhere else. So. Whining.
We're going to start with last Friday. Last Friday, I was at an Amtgard event. This is not actually relevant, except that it was in King City, which is about halfway to the Bay Area. I recieved a call that evening, from my dad, regarding my grandma. Now, my grandmother is 92, and her health is, correspondingly, a little bit sketchy. A couple weeks prior to this, she had fallen, and broken a few ribs. (Oh boy, look how much fun those bone density problems are going to be!) So, hospital. Wherin they put her on a pain medication with side effects including a sense of time dilation, confusion, and paranoia. The first night they had her on this, when my aunt Joan had gone home for the evening, and they were going to move her to a different room, she thought she was being kidnapped for nefarious biological experiment purposes (yes, grandma, we have read some of the same books, haven't we...) so she panicked and *tried to escape*, and *punched two nurses*, before they strapped her down to her bed. WTF. Then it took a further 3 days to convince the doctors that she was not, in fact, suffering from dimentia, but that she was having a side effect of the pain meds. (Have I mentioned that my grandmother is 5' nothing and weighs less that 90 lbs right now?) Anyway, she was recovering from rib damaged, got moved to a care facility, got pnumonia, went back to the hospital to have fluid drained from below her lungs, went back to the care facility, and then (on Friday) she was having trouble breathing, and was in pain, and wasn't able to eat. So she was back to the hospital, and my dad was calling me to tell me she was there, and not eating, and waiting on a procedure, and also my mom and Joan were there, and that, really, there was no telling what was going to happen, and she might pass away suddenly. Or not.
Now, it's not like this is terribly unexpected, but I'm not certain I'll ever take the news of the probable death of a loved one particularly well. So there was some crying, and some not very good sleep.
Saturday was, in some regards, less sucky. I called my mom and asked if I should drive the rest of the way to the Bay on Sunday after my event. I did event stuff and did not totally suck, despite being distracted. And then I went to go help out in the kitchen, and managed to slice my finger open but good. (It is still bandaged, and while I am like 87% sure it doesn't need stitches, it is deep enough that it's going to take forever to heal. Also, I did not know how often I used my index finger on my left hand to brace things until it was injured and hurt like a bitch whenever I applied pressure.)
Sunday, did the drive. Saw the grandma. I was prepared, having seen my grandfather go from a strong man to a frail body, how bad this could be, so that didn't hit me too hard. Which is not to say it was fun. It was not fun, especially since she was in pain, and because they were waiting for a procedure that day, she hadn't had any water, and was so dry-mouthed she could barely speak. On the plus side, when she could muster the energy, she did crack a few very dry jokes, so that's working. (Also, the procedure never happened, they had to reschedule it due to the doctor having an emergency. Which I get, but fuck, let them know ASAP and give the old woman some damn water.) Saw my mom and my aunt, who were, miraculously, not at each others' throats. In short, I went, I saw, I said what I needed to say. And... it's ok. We still don't know what's going to happen next; she may recover ok, or she may drop dead. But I think, whatever happens next, that I will be ok. Not happy, but ok.
Monday I had a day off. Griffin is sick. (Had been since Thursday, actually, but by Monday the fever had gone down, so it was just coughing, sneezing misery.)
Tuesday, back to work. Generic frustration about having been gone and how ain't nobody can do shit right if I'm not there. Seriously. I am still finding shit that went wrong in my absence. My personal favorite is that we "didn't have enough postcards" for a mailing we were doing. Weird, but plausable. Come to find a couple days later, no, we did, but you fucking stamped a couple and mailed them without putting the labels on, so they got returned in the mail. Granted, in the greater scheme of things, a couple of postcards and a couple of stamps is no big deal, but damn, I am impressed you messed that up. So impressed that I'm going to try really hard not to use this particular temp again, because this is not the first time she's done dumb shit while watching my office.
Wednesday, Griffin is starting to experiance some pain in his jaw along with the coughing.
Thursday, my boss gets sick (Including pink eye. Nope, nope, nope.). Griffin still sick, now in... rather a lot of pain.
And then today. Griffin's birthday. I went to work (Boss still sick of course, but came in for an appointment.), and found out that we had some tax forms which had been sent out that needed corrections. I know that at least one of these clients has already filed. And of course, it's a client who can be really challenging to work with. Spent half the day procrastinating calling because I didn't want to get yelled at, then chickened out completely and sent them an e-mail instead. (It was the official e-mail that they suggested we send. It was legit. Also, totally going to get yelled at on Monday.) Boss went home mid-day, needed car jumped, so I jumped his car. This is where things get good. After work, I go down to my car, planning to head home and comfort Griffin as best I can. Car won't start. Asked someone for a jump - it didn't work. Panicked slightly. Called a tow-truck, called my repair guy. He said possibly the starter, and that's gonna run me $500. I just paid $500 for new tires last week, so this does not put me in a good mood. Seriously debated scrapping the car, but wouldn't have a good way to get to work. Here, though, it starts to all look up again. I get towed, the mechanic looks at it and talks to me, and maybe, maaaybe it's a burnt-out fuse or battery problem. Which would be less expensive. We'll find out tomorrow. I get home (having gotten a ride from a friend, becasue Griffin is apparently on pain meds and can't drive), at which point I get to check in with Griffin. Long story short, he went to an emergency dentist, got some x-rays, and found out that *over four years ago*, when he cracked a tooth at Amtgard, the shot *also* cracked one of his wisdom teeth, but went unnoticed. So, guess who just got a wisdom tooth out?! Honestly, this is excellent news, because he is in way less pain now. Mostly from the drugs, but with the tooth actually removed, it should heal up and not be an issue in the future. (This message is brought to you by See Your Goddamn Dentist on a Regular Basis)
In summary: I currently am without my car. Griffin is still sick, but is not going to be in heinous pain in the future. (Though he also had just about the worst birthday I can think of.) My last grandparent could die anyday without notice. I can't use my left index finger. Also, if I don't get a cold out of this week, it will be a miracle.
... and... I'm not sure why I'm whining. Honestly, this all seems to be turning out ok.
But sometimes, you just need to air your shit.
Alright. Let's get back to trying to save the world.