Yesterday's crap..a dog and a cat

Yesterday kicked my butt, but, it was an alright day because I felt pretty good. I've been feeling almost normal lately and eating for the first time since that surgery I had. Anyhow, I won't bore you with the details, but, I ran around all day for family. Aunt Bitch Face is seriously ill and I went and got her out of the hospital because no one else was available..even though her people have cars, go figure. So, I got her home, delivered my mother to her house, and went to the pharmacy for her prescriptions. It was a hassle, because I didn't have the correct info for her insurance and I still have to sort all that out today. Medicare and Medicaid are making things difficult for all old people now. (Including me.) It's all a mess. Thanks, Obama. So, that's my job for today. It's a small one compared to yesterday. Our small pharmacy was out of her prescriptions, they don't stock everything like in a city, and I knew they were vital. I have the same exact scripts. Same dosages too. They were meds that protect and line your stomach and a small non narcotic pain reliever. I went back to tell my aunt and found her alone and moaning in bed. Jebus. My mom had left to get ready for her own appointment, but, she had helpfully told me my aunt's illness was caused by stress of 'them boy's' fighting. Really, Doctor Tuwella, it couldn't be because Bitch Face is nearly a hundred? Sigh. 'Them boys' are her grandsons who live with her and are actually grown men with serious issues. This whole family is dysfunctional.

It's been forever since I was at my aunt's house, because y'all know why. Her antics cause me a lot of grief. But, I am not heartless. She's old, sick and alone, except for these grandson's who seem not to be able to help her and I don't know why. I don't even want to speculate. Anyway, the woman was a wreck with pain and confusion and I knew I had duplicate meds, so I went home and got her some. Judge me all you want. I am no doctor, but, I can read. I couldn't just leave her for a whole day in pain and moaning. Besides, one of the stomach meds was vital. I knew that from my own experience. She really had to have it. I gave her water and helped her take pills. I did some other small tasks and left her sleeping..finally. I did notice that one of her grandsons had cleaned the house. It was spotless, except for her bedroom, which, I guess, is off limits. He gets some credit for that in my eyes. Dysfunctional people do the best they can.

I also had Lissa, no school that day because of a teacher's meeting, and she had badgered me to go swimming all week. But, she has no suit. I had to go to the local used shop and spell in my head for one that fit her. Because I just can't budget a new one right now. There isn't a discount store anywhere near this tiny town. The spell must have worked, they'd just put out swim suits that day and I found a small woman's Speedo that was almost new and fit her. $3 bucks. She bitched because she picked out a hot pink bikini with fucking bra pads. I said, no. Period. The tone of my voice must have warned her, because she marched the Speedo straight to the register. (The register is an old lady with a pencil, pad and cigar box.) We took a break and went home for lunch and I told her she eats half her sandwich and her stupid Goldfish or she does not go swimming. This is all so boring, isn't it? It's significant to me, because I am sick of her eating habits. You cannot go hang at the pool all day with no food in you. She stomped and raised her voice and gave excuses, but, I ignored her. When her lunch plate was empty, I reached for my keys. I dropped her off with the new suit in a cool gold beach bag we also found, (fidy cents), and breathed a sigh of relief. I stayed to make sure she got inside okay and she walked with such confidence, acting like she was hot shit with that big gold bag. It made me smile, but, the whole thing was exhausting.

Then I ran some more. Mom to the doctor, back to the pharmacy, more Medicare debates, the grocery store, picking up mom, listening to her (totally exhausting), back to the pharmacy, a cat food run, then a short break back at the house to have some Kook-Aid (totally on a grape Kool-Aid bender this week) and a smoke and back to the pool to check the kid. She'd been there three hours, found a friend, showed me her swimming skills, which blew me away. Gowd, that kid swims like a fish! She can even dive! She's finally found a sport she's awesome at, (besides Butterball, who knows what that is, really?). I will now stop worrying about the deep end and the pond on their property.

A weird thing happened in here on my smoke break, I heard a small kitten crying. I checked the house and yard and couldn't find it. It persisted. I assumed it was a real kitten and decided I'd find it when I got home from running. It really puzzled me though. But, still, we are a cat house, right? All the shit asses dump cats here. This one must be a good hider. Oh well. So, I go back to the hospital because I'd left my cane there when I helped Tuwella out of the stupid wheel chair they always put her in (she loves those damn wheel chair rides at check up time) and I'd left my favorite cane there. I'm fine, I just have a hip that's been slipping out of place lately. At the hospital, I encountered another lady with a cane, way worse off than me, and she was trying to figure out where a dog's bark was coming from in the parking lot. I knew the feeling, it can be bad news. It was a hot day. Soon, a lady in a wheel chair joined her and then a crippled old man. Jebus. A whole group of crippled animal lovers. I seemed to be the 'young sprite' in this hot mess, so I went to search. I found the dog and it was like the picture I posted. It was a miniature Collie, in a dog bed with a baby blanket, parked in the shade of the overhang with all the windows cracked. It had shade, a breeze and even toys and a bowl of water on the floor. It was fine, obviously cared for. I hadn't expected to find that. This is a backwoods place and I usually find horrible things, even children or babies in cars.

As, I was walking back (slow, owch) to tell the group, I stumbled on a small box. The box was sealed but, had air holes poked on top and was behind the back wheel of a truck. Fuck me! I opened it and inside was a greasy t-shirt wadded up and inside that was a tiny flea bitten yellow kitten. I grabbed her and took her to the group. I said, the dog is fine, she's doing better than any of us, but, I found this. I showed them the tiny kitten and explained. After cussing the unknown abandoner, the lady in the wheel chair said she'd take the kitten. Her cat had just died of old age and she felt that 'god' wanted her to take this baby. Well, okay then, thank you imaginary being. I helped the lady get the cat and her wheel chair back in her van and later, I never heard the 'kitten' at home again. It was strange. I think it was just a premonition that took a weird route. If I hadn't been on 'kitten alert' I may not have noticed that box and the truck might have smashed it. Who know? It WAS nice to know there are fellow animal lovers here who worry about dogs left in cars. It made me feel good about this backwoods farm town I bitch about.

 That looks like what I found, only 'box cat' had fleas and ear mites. I think Box Cat is a great name only the jesus lover will probably name her Fluffy. Oh, well, she has a home now. That's great.

My mother just checked on Bitch Face and found her on the floor. Her dang grandsons were drunk last night and they are hung over and sleeping in a van and a garage because 'sick people make them nervous'. We got some neighbor 'boys' to help lift her back in bed. This is bad, folks, and more than I can handle. My mother can't handle it either, though she thinks she can. Doctor Tuwella. (Giant eye roll.) They both confused meds this morning. That's it. I am calling Nurses On Call and find out what Medicare covers. It will be another long day. I know this is the shits to read. Sometimes this place is just my diary and can bore you to tears.

ps..dear diary..Lissa just called from school and said I have to pick her up. I guess one day is enough for her mom. I will be there, book in hand. I'm reading Oprah by Kitty Kelly. It's old, but, what hell, it was in a free box. Did you know Oprah's baby lived for 6 weeks?? I did not know that. I thought he was still born. She never went to see him. Not even once. No judgement here. I just didn't know.