Tuesday was a long day.
It was supposed to be a simple, somewhat quiet day. Get Tim to his dermatologist appointment and pick up the resultant prescription.
Sure, it was a 30-minute drive each way (which si a lot for me). And sure it was raining on the way back. And yes, Arizona drivers can barely drive on dry roads.
So I guess what I’m saying is that the initial trip took quite a bit out of me. Still, all I had to do later was pick up the meds from Walgreens and maybe take Mom to get a couple of snacks for the plane. None of which had to be done for several hours.
To ER or not to ER
But when we got back, Mom said Nadine had been looking for us. She wanted me to come over once I was home.
Apparently, Marc had been having stabbing stomach pains since Sunday. He’d called his doctor, and there was concern that it might be a gall bladder issue. So he’d finally decided to go to the ER.
But of course we hadn’t been around when he made that decision. So rather than ask for a ride once we got back or call a cab, they did the only logical thing: book a Dial-A-Ride for 6 a.m. the next morning. (I think maybe we made them a little too self-reliant.)
And so they matter-of-factly assured me, they didn’t need a ride after all.
I kind of thought they were kidding. Then that they were crazy. Then that, whatever their humor/mental state, they were going to the damn ER today, damn it.
I told them to wait about 15 minutes — I needed to eat something and catch up on a couple of emails — and then we’d be leaving.
Unfortunately, Marc isn’t on Medicare yet, which means he has to go to the VA hospital, which means a 30-minute drive instead of a 10-minute one.
I got back an hour after I left, caught up on the few emails that had come in and then laid down for about half an hour. I had to rest up to get the prescriptions and the quick grocery store trip.
(What would have been) a well-timed trip
I figured Mom and I would run those errands at 7 p.m., once rush hour had died down.
Phoenix rush hour really isn’t that bad unless, like us, you live only a couple of blocks from the freeway. Then it’s… unpleasant.
Mom and I got caught in rush hour traffic last Friday. The last real leg of the trip was just getting from 19th Ave to 25th Ave, but it was via a street that leads directly to a freeway on-ramp. That half a mile took almost 20 minutes.
So this time I was thinking clearly. This time, I planned to wait. Unfortunately, Tim’s stomach didn’t get the memo, and it demanded a burger at 5:30.
I decided to just combine that with the grocery trip, since there’s a Safeway right by a Smashburger. And that would’ve been a very smart idea… If I’d gone to the right Safeway.
Instead, I was tired and chose the wrong one and ended up having to make a big loop. And of course all of this driving was within five blocks of the freeway. But at least by then it was 6:15 and traffic wasn’t as bad. So, um, yay?
Not done yet
Once we got home, Mom heated up some food, and I rested on the couch so that I’d have the energy for one last trip. Because Tim’s meds were still at Walgreens.
Some of the worst traffic snarls in our area happen right around that store, so I made the executive decision to just go on a separate trip. Which sounded fine and sensible at the time. Not so much when, at 7 p.m., I was leaving the house for the fourth time in nine hours.
Thankfully, it was a quick trip. Tim’s medication was ready, and it was actually less than expected: $4.66 instead of $20. So that part was nice. But I was still drained from the day’s events.
Oh, and this was after Monday’s trip to Tim’s massage. It was 25 miles away, it was raining both coming and going, and the trip back took place right in the middle of rush hour. So we were out almost three hours in all — quite a bit of which I spent being very paranoid and tense.
This is all to say… Man, the last two days have sucked.
It doesn’t get much better
I’d love to breathe a sigh of relief that it’s all over. But the sad fact is that six of the next eight days are also going to suck.
Wednesday I’m driving Mom to the airport at 9:30 a.m. (Very nearly the least I can do.) I’ll get back around 10:30 a.m., and we have to leave for Tim’s therapist at one. We’ll get back at 2:30, and I’ll finish my shift and then lie around feeling sorry for myself. And watching TV. Because I can multitask like that.
Thursday is a quiet day. If I get out of my PJs, I shall be greatly disappointed. (No, I don’t know why I said it like that. I’m tired, okay?)
Friday we have to take Pandora and Patches to the vet. Pandora is a month overdue for her checkup. I put it off after Tim’s accident. We added Patches because she’s lost a startling amount of weight. She needed to lose those pounds, but three or four pounds in six months is a bit concerning. It’s probably just The Puppy Diet — that is, eating less because every time she goes to her food bowl, Pandora pounces on her (sometimes literally) — but we want to make sure nothing’s going on.
Saturday brings another therapy appointment. At least that’s the only real errand to be done. But by that point I’ll be utterly drained and thoroughly ensconced in an unhealthy/unattractive degree of self-pity.
On Sunday, it’s another 25-miles-each-way trip to the massage. (Please let it be sunny. Please let it be sunny.) But we can’t skip it. He freezes up pretty badly without a weekly appointment — and thanks to the walker, his hands, wrists and chest… Well, they need kneading. At least there’s a Fry’s across the street from the massage place, so I can pick up groceries without a separate trip.
Monday will be spent whimpering on the couch.
Tuesday is the orthopedist appointment 22 miles away, with an appointment during morning rush hour. A very grouchy me (not a morning person) will praying the healing process is as far along as Tim thinks it is.
At present, he feels comfortable putting about 85% of his weight down on his heel. At present, I don’t feel comfortable with that at all. But Tim gets miffed when I try to tell him how his body is healing. Just because I don’t have x-ray vision.
Seriously, though, I’m a little worried that he’ll overdo it and set the healing process back. So he’s agreed to keep mainly using the walker until an actual professional can use actual x-rays to tell us how things look.
Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s somehow 10:51 p.m. and I should’ve been in bed 51 minutes ago.
Anyone else having a crappy/busy time? Anyone want to come fill in for Mom? The guest bed is pretty comfy…
It was indeed a gall bladder issue. He was slated to either have surgery Tuesday night or first thing Wednesday morning. So clearly it was good that they didn’t wait until tomorrow morning. #DaughterInLawPoints #TootingMyOwnHorn