I was hoping to talk my mom into at least picking up her prescriptions. MAYBE also taking the one that was only supposed to be for 2 weeks, long enough to last her until her already-scheduled doctor’s appointment with her primary care physician.
At first, she seemed to say she’d do it.
Then, she refused.
She’s making light of everything and seems to think the only thing that was affected was her speech, and that’s apparently no big deal as far as she’s concerned. But she was disoriented generally, as well.
My dad said before he called me, she was turning lights on then turning them off again. And she’d taken everything out of her purse for no apparent reason, and couldn’t figure out how to check her blood sugar, when it’s something she has been doing every day multiple times a day, for years.
AND as I had said, when I tried to show her that pic of the Frap and the cake pop since the cake pop was so cute, and I was trying to engage her in conversation, etc., she couldn’t figure out glasses = better eyesight and kept grabbing at all manner of random objects trying to see the photo more clearly.
She was willing to pick up low-dose Aspirin and take that (maybe… she bought it. I don’t know if she’ll actually take one a day like they said). But that was it. And she was upset that I was irritated.
I tried again, and said maybe we could just pick UP the prescriptions, so she would have them, for when she sees her doctor. No, she has some meds from last time (which she also didn’t take as prescribed). So she doesn’t need more. Not that she has any plans to take any of the medication from last August, either.
There were other frustrations involving the both of them today, but I guess that’s the big one.
I drove to a nearby strip mall and started to cry, parked by a McDonald’s, puzzling out what I would do for dinner, since I yet again didn’t make it to the grocery store today. I just couldn’t do it.
It cost more than McDonald’s would have, most likely, unless I would have really gone wild, but I treated myself to some Panera. A Croque Monsieur, French Onion Soup, and a Pecan Braid (and an apple). This isn’t a fantastic time to be blowing more money on restaurant food, but I did it anyway. Desperate times.
I’ll have all kinds of fresh and existing credit card debt to pay off soon, from groceries and gas, and such, and my next check might be a little light, since I got Friday covered altogether to be there for Neva. Which is fine. That’s what I wanted to do. That way, I was able to spend the whole day with her and her family. She was super grateful I did that.
It just seems like a lot of pressure and problems, all at once, and I feel like I’m getting buried underneath all of it. And I didn’t catch up on taking care of my living space anywhere near to the degree I was hoping I would. I just can’t keep up. And I don’t know what to do.
Thunder and rain here now. I’m close to tears again.
And yet, I want to budget money to start sending out poetry collections again.
Well, Neva just called. I had texted her about everything that happened with my mom, very briefly, after she checked in with me first, and about all the repeat calls and texts I got from work over the course of this weekend, including one at 9:30 PM. It’s been a very overwhelming past several days.
There’s an art gallery in town looking for people to lead workshops on a part-time basis. I don’t think that would suffice all by itself, since the workshops might not happen regularly enough. But it’s a thought. They mention writing as one of the skills they teach people, and I have certainly taught that.
I’m a little hesitant to dip my toe back into something like that, in case the stress load would do me in again. But it’s a thought. Starting hourly is pretty good.
Neva said she’d call back later. She may, she may not. But she wanted to talk some more about the specifics of our plans for my birthday. She’s gonna throw me a small party in her mom’s garage.
I don’t know. I tried talking to kiddo about everything.
She’s got problems of her own. Their cat is having some health issues requiring even more specialty food beyond what they’ve already been giving him. And they just got him a water fountain, in the hopes he’ll stay better hydrated. There was an outside chance he could have developed diabetes, but apparently, that wasn’t the case. Which was a big relief.
It just feels like no one is really hearing me when I’m saying it’s all too much.
Kiddo just said, I know, there’s always time, we’ll figure it out.
But none of that will help me get through tonight.
That’s up to me. Again. As always. Maybe that’s just how it is, and how it always will be.
This may be petty, but she just got herself all kinds of fresh merch for her current favorite band, and I still haven’t gotten anything for Mother’s Day. She’d said to look over my wishlists, and she’d send something. Paychecks have come and gone, and still, nothing. And my birthday is already coming up. I don’t know if I’ll get anything for that. There was nothing for Christmas, either.
I just feel so forgotten.
Neva at least is trying, and I imagine my friend from the dance/poetry collaboration project, and my former coworkers who are much more local, would offer some support if I reached out.
I guess I’ll have to do that. Take the initiative about making plans. Christine and I were supposed to Zoom once she was done with classes. I could look into that. Follow up and see how she is, if/when she might be free for a chat.
It’s just a lot.
All the Bright and Sparkly Things 
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