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Doesn't feel like Friday...
Sep. 30th, 2005 06:36 pmI got a good leg up on the 10,000-word project due Monday, nailing pretty much 50% of it by the time we went to the hospital to visit my mom at nearly 2 pm. The reason we were so late today was because the doctor had promised to call by 1 pm, and my dad - bless his trusting soul - kept waiting and waiting for the call.
I can tell that even he is starting to lose his patience with what appears to be an ongoing runaround from whomever he deals with. At 1:15 pm, he picked up the phone to call and find out why the doctor didn't call him back by 1 pm as promised, only to be told that the doctor would call him back as soon as possible. "As soon as possible" appears to be a period of at least 45 minutes, after which my dad gave up waiting and hied us out to the car to go visit my mom.
My mom seems to have stabilized into a very passive state where she sleeps a lot and tries to say things, largely unintelligible. Asking "What did you say?" doesn't work very well, as the poor woman generally doesn't remember what she just said, although the tactic does work once in a while. She does not seem to be in any pain.
My mom's deteriorated mental condition may have a positive (relatively speaking) aspect: despite all that has occurred, she continues to have a reasonably positive attitude. Of course, this may be the result of just being that kind of person, or it may be the result of not realizing what's going on at all. (I still remember how years ago, in this same hospital, my grandmother begged me to untie her hands so that she could rip out the IV that was keeping her alive, so she could die in peace. It is a profoundly disturbing remembrance.)
The lack of information from her caregivers is affecting me in indirect ways. My dad asked me a couple of times this morning if I was online, which I wasn't (precisely because he was expecting a call). I concentrated on my work, hoping the doc would call soon so I could then check email (Fridays are a prime day for picking up assignments in this racket).
Consequently, I wasn't able to get online to check email until after we had gone shopping after visiting my mom. It so happens that nothing is brewing for the weekend, but there very likely could have been something there from one of my clients who insists on a couple of email exchanges before nailing down a project.
In other news, it turns out I need a certificate of being HIV/AIDS-free for my upcoming Russian visa application. So, immediately after checking my email this afternoon, I searched for a place I could get this done in Nassau County, but according to Google, there is no such venue here. So, I have tentatively made an appointment in Manhattan for next Tuesday, at a place recommended by Google (by dint of showing up in the search results). Said facility promises to provide me with the required certificate expeditiously, within an hour or so of drawing blood. Goodie, goodie.
Cheers...
I can tell that even he is starting to lose his patience with what appears to be an ongoing runaround from whomever he deals with. At 1:15 pm, he picked up the phone to call and find out why the doctor didn't call him back by 1 pm as promised, only to be told that the doctor would call him back as soon as possible. "As soon as possible" appears to be a period of at least 45 minutes, after which my dad gave up waiting and hied us out to the car to go visit my mom.
My mom seems to have stabilized into a very passive state where she sleeps a lot and tries to say things, largely unintelligible. Asking "What did you say?" doesn't work very well, as the poor woman generally doesn't remember what she just said, although the tactic does work once in a while. She does not seem to be in any pain.
My mom's deteriorated mental condition may have a positive (relatively speaking) aspect: despite all that has occurred, she continues to have a reasonably positive attitude. Of course, this may be the result of just being that kind of person, or it may be the result of not realizing what's going on at all. (I still remember how years ago, in this same hospital, my grandmother begged me to untie her hands so that she could rip out the IV that was keeping her alive, so she could die in peace. It is a profoundly disturbing remembrance.)
The lack of information from her caregivers is affecting me in indirect ways. My dad asked me a couple of times this morning if I was online, which I wasn't (precisely because he was expecting a call). I concentrated on my work, hoping the doc would call soon so I could then check email (Fridays are a prime day for picking up assignments in this racket).
Consequently, I wasn't able to get online to check email until after we had gone shopping after visiting my mom. It so happens that nothing is brewing for the weekend, but there very likely could have been something there from one of my clients who insists on a couple of email exchanges before nailing down a project.
In other news, it turns out I need a certificate of being HIV/AIDS-free for my upcoming Russian visa application. So, immediately after checking my email this afternoon, I searched for a place I could get this done in Nassau County, but according to Google, there is no such venue here. So, I have tentatively made an appointment in Manhattan for next Tuesday, at a place recommended by Google (by dint of showing up in the search results). Said facility promises to provide me with the required certificate expeditiously, within an hour or so of drawing blood. Goodie, goodie.
Cheers...
