my mom

[Drunk Monk]

As soon as I left work today, my phone starts blowing up with calls from doctors' offices and various services, OT, PT, SW, juggling appts while I'm driving (automatic speaker phone bluetooths into my cell). The neurosurgeon's office calls, says that he doesn't handle my mom's situation after seeing her MRI and refers to someone else in San Jose (a longer drive) but they don't say any details because the medical system is fucked that way. This goes on after I get home, plus a new OT shows up.  She's nice enough, new, a replacement for someone Stacy said was really good, but this may be her 2nd to last session because all the services vanish next week, unless we decide to continue out-of-pocket. She did offer a good bit of advice tho - taking off the sliding door to the bathroom, which I'll do later this week. It'll make access easier and my mom isn't able to close the door anyway. I email her regular doc to tell her that the DMV disabled plaque form she filled out was rejected because she wrote 'back pain' in the complaint and the form says specifically not to just write 'back pain' right above that blank. My mom's good friend calls, the one who we planned to stay with during the construction but he went into the hospital - he's back home and today is his 90th birthday.  A relative calls, a retired doctor, right in the middle of dinner, which gets cold.  She's been texting me with poor advice, that know-it-all doctorly sort even though she's miles away and cannot see what's going on.  She tells my mom to watch some netflix shows even after my mom says she's not into TV much anymore and doesn't have netflix several times.  My mom has a really bad pain bout tonight.  So hard to bear witness.

So this week, we have the final visits from the services, a doctor's appt with the physiatrist that tortured her last week and fathered the BBT writer, and then home care starts.  Not sure how that will fly, but hopefully I'll get back to the Cruz this weekend.  

I get pretty mad about it all, furious, just rage not directed at anyone or anything, sheer frustration from it all.  It's a brutal Monday really, but not because it's my 8th work day in a row, because coming back to my mom's is wrought with agony and despair.

Thankfully Tara calls and we have a short chat, but I'm not that focused because I can hear my mom panting from the pain. 

Not a good start to this week.