Monday Morning Musings
Monday. My day off. And I am exhausted. But, alas, no rest for the weary. Today I make my quarterly sojourn with MIL to the doctor. Mind you, this takes all day to accomplish one doctor's visit. First I drive an hour to pick her up. MIL is 83, and moving very slowly. Then we drive another 30 minutes to the hospital where her Dr. has an office. Doctors office is always crowded and the wait is long. Finally, we meet with the doctor and I watch while she, with Parkinson's related dementia, and doctor discuss her various ailments. I try to fill in the missing pieces while trying to leave her with as much dignity and autonomy as possible. After doctors visit we have lunch. Always in the same corner diner near her home. I drop her off, she is thoroughly wiped out and takes a long nap. I drive an hour home in bad traffic.
I'm not complaining. I love these days with MIL. It's just difficult that they always come on Monday when I'm tired.
Today I am tired because, well, yesterday was Sunday. And then about 4:00, just as I was leaving to take dogs for a nail trimming, I got a phone call from Refugee agency. They need someone to make sure the young boy is taking some medicine. Oh. But wait. First, could I take young boy back to the clinic, where he was Sat. night, so they could look at the infection in his finger and then could I get the prescription filled? Husband and I drop everything and go.
This requires us to get mom on the phone with an interpreter who explains to her why and where I am taking her and the young boy.
I go into the clinic with mom and young boy, husband goes to the drug store...Thankfully someone at the clinic remember young boy from the night before. He is a refugee who arrived late Friday, so none of his official paper work for welfare will be completed until today. Which means they have only one little card that states they have refugee status, but no other documentation - not the kind of stuff clinics need and drug stores need. (Yes, I paid the $83 to fill his prescription, what are you going to do?).
Turns out that the clinic decides to open the wound on his finger and drain the infection. This required several shots to numb the finger, which did not really work. Young boy was in excruciating pain during the procedure. We could only speak to young boy in pigeon English. Soon, and it was funny, the doctor and I were also speaking to one another in pigeon English, and then laughing at ourselves for doing so... Anyway, two and half hours later we leave and take young boy and mom back to living quarters. This requires another call to the interpreter to explain taking medication, especially the Tylenol every four hours for pain - and do not let the four year old take medicine.
By the time I got home to hungry dogs and hungry people it was after 7. We finally ate and relaxed from a busy day at 9.
I'm tired. But what a weekend of good work. And now it starts all over since my day off is not real a day off.
Oh. and did I mention that it is my turn to lead the benediction at city council tonight. So. I will be there at 7 to pray before they begin the work of the city...
I'm not complaining. I love these days with MIL. It's just difficult that they always come on Monday when I'm tired.
Today I am tired because, well, yesterday was Sunday. And then about 4:00, just as I was leaving to take dogs for a nail trimming, I got a phone call from Refugee agency. They need someone to make sure the young boy is taking some medicine. Oh. But wait. First, could I take young boy back to the clinic, where he was Sat. night, so they could look at the infection in his finger and then could I get the prescription filled? Husband and I drop everything and go.
This requires us to get mom on the phone with an interpreter who explains to her why and where I am taking her and the young boy.
I go into the clinic with mom and young boy, husband goes to the drug store...Thankfully someone at the clinic remember young boy from the night before. He is a refugee who arrived late Friday, so none of his official paper work for welfare will be completed until today. Which means they have only one little card that states they have refugee status, but no other documentation - not the kind of stuff clinics need and drug stores need. (Yes, I paid the $83 to fill his prescription, what are you going to do?).
Turns out that the clinic decides to open the wound on his finger and drain the infection. This required several shots to numb the finger, which did not really work. Young boy was in excruciating pain during the procedure. We could only speak to young boy in pigeon English. Soon, and it was funny, the doctor and I were also speaking to one another in pigeon English, and then laughing at ourselves for doing so... Anyway, two and half hours later we leave and take young boy and mom back to living quarters. This requires another call to the interpreter to explain taking medication, especially the Tylenol every four hours for pain - and do not let the four year old take medicine.
By the time I got home to hungry dogs and hungry people it was after 7. We finally ate and relaxed from a busy day at 9.
I'm tired. But what a weekend of good work. And now it starts all over since my day off is not real a day off.
Oh. and did I mention that it is my turn to lead the benediction at city council tonight. So. I will be there at 7 to pray before they begin the work of the city...
Comments
Wow!