'Days of our Lives' has nothing on this
Jun. 26th, 2007 12:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
deannawolSo, I visited four different counties last night after work via two different methods of transport. This has been outdone by one person I know of. My dad - who visited 5 counties.
One of the locks on my car has seized up a little and Dad found out, so he drove to Maynooth and picked up my car and brought it to the garage for me. From there, he brought it to Navan and sat around looking pointedly at the guys on break until they took the car in and tried to fix the lock. They did something odd which means that the spare key now works in the lock but my key doesn't. But rather than complain and give out, I just swapped keys. I'll take it back when I have a couple of days free and can bring it down myself, although I'm thinking that I'll just get them to replace the lock and be done with it.
So from there, Dad (with my Mum in tow) dropped the car back to the house in Virginia and drove to Drogheda to see my Aunt. She was back down from her operation and is now the proud possessor of four metal pins which do the wonderful job of holding her wrist together. So far, no one has told her that she's going to have to get them out again in about 6 weeks. We're leaving that to the doctor in charge of her case.
Now, Dad, already tired from driving over half the country, had a wee bit of a fight with my Aunt yesterday in the hospital. The nurse was asking her if she knew what tablets she is on and the dosages. This is where it started. She had just had a rather large dose of anaestetic and was a little dozy - but didn't realise it - and was having trouble remembering what she was on. So Dad suggested that they ring her local doctor.
So they ring up and she refuses to let anyone else talk to the doctor in possibly the most childish way. She pressed the cancel button as the phone was taken from her. Anyway, Dad left the room and, wearing the hat of my Aunt's only next of kin, called the doctor to explain the situation and passed the phone to the nurse. Now apparently while the nurse was on the call, her mouth kept getting smaller and smaller as it was found out that the doctor hadn't made any notations as to what tablets she was currently on.
But at the moment, the belief is that she's on two seperate lots of blood thinners, two seperate lots of blood pressure tablets and two seperate lots of something else that she has no idea what it does. Now, no one knows why she's on double medication and to be honest, we're starting to wonder if any doctor knows the full list of medication that she's on.
Of course, when she found out that Dad had rung her doctor she started giving out to him and telling him how it was none of his business. Dad, in fine form, turned back and said that she needed a minder and that for now, he was it, especially seeing as her doctor was an idiot. This sparked a line of retoric concerning how the doctor was a very nice man and that Dad shouldn't be saying bad things about him. Dad followed with a fantastic - "I don't care if he's Jesus Christ himself, if the man can't operate a pen, he's an idiot!" and walked out.
At this point, my Mum returned from getting a cup of tea and walked straight into my Aunt telling her how terrible Dad was and how he was making a show of her. At this point she threatened to go to a nursing home and not home to the place where she'd get catered meals when she wanted, Sky tv and pretty much anything else she could want. Mum, playing the good wife and attentive caregiver, bit her tongue and was thankful that Dad wasn't in the room to say "Fine, go ahead! There's a bus leaving at 2 tomorrow."
Of course, my Aunt thinks she's fine. She, also, thinks that she's going to be able to cater for 3 B&B's at the weekend. But the doozy is that she thinks she's not on painkillers. When she announced that to the family (a full ten minute declaration), the nurse had to leave the room because she couldn't keep a straight face any longer. Dad found this out when he followed the nurse because he couldn't keep one either.
I found all this out when I got the bus to Virginia last night to pick up my car. Mum was one step away from tying Dad to a chair to keep him from trying to drive it back to Maynooth last night.
Honestly, I love my family but sometimes it seems like they are auditioning for a new Irish soap opera. She's coming home (home to my home) today and to make sure that she stays there, Mum has been to Cavan this morning before joining Dad on his way to Drogheda, to pick up her clothes, medications and assorted stuff. If they had left that until later, she would have insisted on going with them and they would have had some trouble getting her out of there.
As it stands, I don't imagine that she's going to stay with us very long, unless the reality of what she's gone and done to herself actually hits her. She has ten stitches, four pins, two black eyes and a cast on her ar-r-rrrrm. (the latter to be sung to the tune of Twelve Days of Christmas). But I guarantee that in two to three days, we're going to catch her poking a knitting needle down the cast to scratch it, or trying to do the dishes two handed, or complaining about how the cast is poking her at an odd angle. She's not the best patient in the world.
One of the locks on my car has seized up a little and Dad found out, so he drove to Maynooth and picked up my car and brought it to the garage for me. From there, he brought it to Navan and sat around looking pointedly at the guys on break until they took the car in and tried to fix the lock. They did something odd which means that the spare key now works in the lock but my key doesn't. But rather than complain and give out, I just swapped keys. I'll take it back when I have a couple of days free and can bring it down myself, although I'm thinking that I'll just get them to replace the lock and be done with it.
So from there, Dad (with my Mum in tow) dropped the car back to the house in Virginia and drove to Drogheda to see my Aunt. She was back down from her operation and is now the proud possessor of four metal pins which do the wonderful job of holding her wrist together. So far, no one has told her that she's going to have to get them out again in about 6 weeks. We're leaving that to the doctor in charge of her case.
Now, Dad, already tired from driving over half the country, had a wee bit of a fight with my Aunt yesterday in the hospital. The nurse was asking her if she knew what tablets she is on and the dosages. This is where it started. She had just had a rather large dose of anaestetic and was a little dozy - but didn't realise it - and was having trouble remembering what she was on. So Dad suggested that they ring her local doctor.
So they ring up and she refuses to let anyone else talk to the doctor in possibly the most childish way. She pressed the cancel button as the phone was taken from her. Anyway, Dad left the room and, wearing the hat of my Aunt's only next of kin, called the doctor to explain the situation and passed the phone to the nurse. Now apparently while the nurse was on the call, her mouth kept getting smaller and smaller as it was found out that the doctor hadn't made any notations as to what tablets she was currently on.
But at the moment, the belief is that she's on two seperate lots of blood thinners, two seperate lots of blood pressure tablets and two seperate lots of something else that she has no idea what it does. Now, no one knows why she's on double medication and to be honest, we're starting to wonder if any doctor knows the full list of medication that she's on.
Of course, when she found out that Dad had rung her doctor she started giving out to him and telling him how it was none of his business. Dad, in fine form, turned back and said that she needed a minder and that for now, he was it, especially seeing as her doctor was an idiot. This sparked a line of retoric concerning how the doctor was a very nice man and that Dad shouldn't be saying bad things about him. Dad followed with a fantastic - "I don't care if he's Jesus Christ himself, if the man can't operate a pen, he's an idiot!" and walked out.
At this point, my Mum returned from getting a cup of tea and walked straight into my Aunt telling her how terrible Dad was and how he was making a show of her. At this point she threatened to go to a nursing home and not home to the place where she'd get catered meals when she wanted, Sky tv and pretty much anything else she could want. Mum, playing the good wife and attentive caregiver, bit her tongue and was thankful that Dad wasn't in the room to say "Fine, go ahead! There's a bus leaving at 2 tomorrow."
Of course, my Aunt thinks she's fine. She, also, thinks that she's going to be able to cater for 3 B&B's at the weekend. But the doozy is that she thinks she's not on painkillers. When she announced that to the family (a full ten minute declaration), the nurse had to leave the room because she couldn't keep a straight face any longer. Dad found this out when he followed the nurse because he couldn't keep one either.
I found all this out when I got the bus to Virginia last night to pick up my car. Mum was one step away from tying Dad to a chair to keep him from trying to drive it back to Maynooth last night.
Honestly, I love my family but sometimes it seems like they are auditioning for a new Irish soap opera. She's coming home (home to my home) today and to make sure that she stays there, Mum has been to Cavan this morning before joining Dad on his way to Drogheda, to pick up her clothes, medications and assorted stuff. If they had left that until later, she would have insisted on going with them and they would have had some trouble getting her out of there.
As it stands, I don't imagine that she's going to stay with us very long, unless the reality of what she's gone and done to herself actually hits her. She has ten stitches, four pins, two black eyes and a cast on her ar-r-rrrrm. (the latter to be sung to the tune of Twelve Days of Christmas). But I guarantee that in two to three days, we're going to catch her poking a knitting needle down the cast to scratch it, or trying to do the dishes two handed, or complaining about how the cast is poking her at an odd angle. She's not the best patient in the world.
no subject
Date: 2007-06-26 12:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-26 01:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-27 12:53 am (UTC)Aaaanyway, why were you in four countries? And that is totally impressive. I was in four states at one time once. Four corners. Good times. Or not, but I was still there once.
Sounds like your Aunt is lucky to have you all and rather unaware of it. What happened to her?
no subject
Date: 2007-06-27 08:26 am (UTC)Currently my Aunt is under house arrest and being tortured with tea and biscuits and slices of toast with the crusts cut off.
She's staying at ours under protest.
no subject
Date: 2007-06-27 12:41 pm (UTC)Such torture!!!
I meant how did she hurt herself actually.
no subject
Date: 2007-06-27 03:00 pm (UTC)Special!