nixtress's Diaryland Diary

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Lousy day

Grams fell yesterday at the nursing home. I'm still not sure if she fell out of bed or somehow managed to fall out of her wheelchair. Regardless, she broke the same hip she broke before. It's worse this time around because she's even less coherent than she was last time. It hurts and she doesn't understand why and forgets two seconds after you tell her.
I didn't find out until just a little while ago. No one bothered to call me. And when I was at the damned nursing home today the aides managed to completely forget to tell me. I even talked to one quite extensively. When I saw that Grams wasn't in her room, I presumed that she was at lunch or having a bath.
Asshats.
I was grumpy prior to finding out that piece of information because not only are my allergies still bothering me, in spite of the meds (although it just rained so maybe that'll help a bit), but I got roped into watching my little sister C. tonight as well. On a school night even. My boys go to bed at 8:30. My mother isn't coming to get C. until after 10:00. Why? Because tonight is my brother B's 21st birthday and my mother wanted to take him out drinking. How healthy is that one? "We come from a family of alcoholics, half of us are bipolar as well and not on meds and you already have drug, alcohol and temper issues... but really..have a great birthday! Drink up!"
Puhleaze. So little sister is going to couch out in my recliner until my (probably drunken) mother shows to pick her up. If she is drunk, I'll most likely not let Mom take her because I really don't want a phone call telling me that my mother managed to kill my sister in her stupidity.
End of rant. Bottom line, what this means is that I'll be up later than what I'd planned and have to deal with drunk people on top of it.
She was sneaky, though. She asked under the guise of another situation. Crappola.
Trevor had a hellacious day at school today. Got into a shoving match with another boy and they both ended up with almost all their cards pulled. He's begun this name-calling habit (nothing too severe--Moron was the worst, I think) that J does and it's driving me batty. He knows better but everytime he gets around J, he does it. Batty, I tell ya.
Physical therapy was educational. I never realized how little I used some of the muscles I have. I felt like a weakling. It'll get better, I know. Just takes some work. The therapist didn't like the way my right knee sounded like Snap, Crackle and Pop were living inside, either. So now I'm doing p.t. on both knees. Three days a week, for six weeks.
I'm so falling apart. Old age has finally caught up to me.
Happy Wednesday, all. Go tell Widower congrats on his upcoming new addition. Exciting news.
N.

7:53 p.m. - 2005-04-20

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