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February 8, 2006 / allyo

All’s well that ends well (whoops, not quite over yet, but here’s hoping)

When a loved one gets to a certain age, or reaches a certain point health-wise, phone calls at odd hours tend to set off faint alarm bells. It’s funny, when my mom called yesterday at 7 am, which, for us, is unusual, it didn’t even occur to me that it might be bad or important news. I was tired and annoyed and had just finished snapping at my husband for no apparent reason. Her call snapped me right back into reality.

I’m happy to say, grandma’s fine. My mom, even though she too is a nurse, tends to overreact to just about everything, and those "chest pains" were actually one sharp pain that scared my grandma enough that her first instinct was to push the little button hanging around her neck. She’s kind of sorry she did, because she’s still undergoing tests to make absolutely certain there is nothing wrong with her heart, but after finally being transferred to a room last night and finally getting her meds from the pharmacist for her very severe rheumatoid arthritis, she’s at least resting comfortably at the moment.

I have just one complaint. Any health professional should realize the words, "My grandma has severe rheumatoid arthritis and has had no pain meds today, including her pain patch which was supposed to be changed this morning," means, "NO my grandma cannot fucking move or scootch herself onto a bed. NO, she can’t stand up, and oh, by the way she’s almost BLIND so why don’t you try warning her before you fucking yank her ass all over the place." ARGH. It was just one aide, one aide who came oh-so-close to feeling my sensible yet fashionable shoes plant themselves firmly up her backside.


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