Many many thanks by the way, to all of the helpful dog-related information people have shared. Yes, I've gone the extensive route of food allergies. That is not it, although I have kept her on a very expensive potato and duck diet. I am really quite certain it is an internal mite. Ew yucko.
So, Mom's scope test results on Monday were normal. Then they told her they were going to do some intestinal tests, on Tuesday (I think). I have lost track of the days and honestly don't know how my sisters keep track.
After about 6 hours of testing on Tuesday (I think that's what my sister said), they returned my Mom to her room and had a nurse announce, "OK, we're sending you home." Right then. Pronto Tonto.
Well, guess what folks?
On hospital Day 8, without conclusive findings of what exactly is wrong, medicare stops paying. And the staff that took such incredible care of her for an entire week couldn't usher her out the door soon enough. Just. Like. That.
They did everything except physically kick my mother in the ass out the door. Allegedly even the doctor's assistant informed my mother that they could "call her a cab" if need be. And, the wait for a wheelchair ride to the lobby would "be awhile," as other patients were discharging.
I guess that's what you call a Medicare Dump Day. I bet it happens every day at hospitals all across the country. Don't think we need some type of reform? I hope to hell you don't ever have a family member who needs care.
Of course, in theory, after 8 days, if you can't determine what IS wrong, perhaps it is best that the patient goes home. Hell, she could get more rest at home. But how about a little kindness people? Is a little kindness too much to ask for a 70something woman who spent her life taking care of medically ill children discarded by their parents and mentally handicapped adults who were wards of the state? Forget that even, how about a little kindness just for another human being?
Returning to work was brutal. Absolutely horrible. Spent 8 hours on Monday going through my email. No exaggeration. Culled what I could and the final tally of work to be done by Friday: 36 jobs. Jobs that I have to do, not delegate to anyone else. All me. 5 of those jobs were jobs that SAT for two weeks, because people didn't find someone else to sign off on their review in my absence, which is totally their responsibility. So their fail became my added work. Well, those 5 got dropped to the bottom of the pile. They can bloody wait. They'll get them on Monday. My eyes can only read so much.
Speaking of which, in many ways my body has not enjoyed the return to work. Neck and shoulder pain galore on Tuesday, and full on migraine by Thursday morning. I did my best to counter the stress with exercise (walking around the lake with the dogs) but I did not make it to the gym because of the workload and the extra gas I'm trying to squeak out until next payday, which is my cousin's wedding, which is becoming quite an expense.
Good thing I don't have a date, it would cost me even more. Gas up to CT and back, plus hotel, plus dry cleaning, plus gift, plus lunch the next day with old friends (the one saving grace in the whole ordeal), and that's quite a little adventure. Oh but hey, you only get married BIG once. Go for it. *rolling my eyes* Nieces, nephews, brothers, sisters, that's different. Those are blood, I'd take a bullet for you relatives. But a cousin, who is in her early 30s, about whose life I know nothing? Whatever. I'm going because her dear mother has been a sweet godmother to me growing up. And I do respect all that my aunt's generation did for my generation.
The scale says (and I really take this with a grain of water-retaining salt) that I am down 3 lbs since Sunday. Hell, I'm not counting or getting excited, merely taking note. When the clothes start feeling different again, that's when I'll feel excited. Odd because I'm not exercising. Odd because I'm not really thinking about it. I am eating as I'd planned out for the week on Sunday, but I don't enjoy the "hungry again" feeling that complex carbs give me about 3 hours after eating.
In other unusual news...
FutureSex and I have gotten bogged down with work this week but we have plans to meet this Saturday afternoon. Hmm. I don't know. Who has sex in the afternoon? Animals, I suppose. And people having illicit steamy affairs. And well, maybe me, lone single girl. I better make sure that timing doesn't interfere with my Red Sox playoff schedule.
We'll see. It's been so long, I think I may have forgotten the basics. Wish that made me a virgin again. Looked at his photo again since meeting, and odd as it sounds, I am just not attracted to the photo. In person, though, there was definitely something. Full moon effect only? Saturday will tell.
I've also started my very first twit-flirt.Um....would that be tw-lirting, tweeters, what say you? Tw-lirting, what a word.
He's 40, Italian, and of course, married. But he's Molto Bello. And a diehard Springsteen fan. Oh delish.
And in yet other unusual news...
I had two FREE Springsteen tickets dropped in my lap this week. Granted, they're so easy to come by because they booked too many concerts at Giants stadium when no one can really afford to go (and these $68-$90 tickets are way LESS than most acts charge to begin with) and even Jersey seems like it might be Bruced-out at the moment. I never thought I'd see the day when lower tier seats are being sold at face value or under face value 2 days before the show. Somehow people coughed up ridiculous sums of money to see U2. I like them, but I'll take my poet's writing any day. So, I'm going tonight, to give myself an energy elixir in the soul of my autumn loving heart. And I gifted the other ticket to a poor college kid, so I am doing the right thing by paying it forward.
Just for a few more hours, for just one more night, I'll be a tramp running free.
"But they can't touch me now
And you can't touch me now
They ain't gonna do to me
What I watched them do to you"
Independence Day, Springsteen