coming apart

I thought I was on the upswing, but other than my literary romance with killer whales, I’d have to say my stress levels have gone nowhere but up. Today my grandmother wanted to go to the orthopedic surgeon because, according to her and the caregiver, the primary did an xray and said it was broken. I drive her an hour to get there, they re-xray it, and it was NOT broken. Turns out the original radiologist only said they couldn’t rule out a fracture. It’s arthritis. Just like the original primary (who I picked out) had said, and who my grandma hated because she was trying to treat her palliatively. My grandma doesn’t want palliative care, even though she’s 86 with severe arthritis and degenerative disk disease and there’s nothing we can do. But god forbid anyone do the reasonable thing and try to give her quality of life.

That wasn’t even what I came here to rant about. The caregiver I mentioned was also entrusted to pick up M from school and bring her back, as there was a chance I wouldn’t be there in time. Entrusted is the key word, here. We got out earlier, however, and something told me I should go to the school at the pick-up time. I thought maybe my intuition was telling me that she’d be late. It was worse than that. I got there and she was already there, and said, “I don’t have a carseat with me.” Mind you, I am a text message away. She didn’t feel it necessary to tell me this until she was surprised by my showing up? She was, apparently, going to put M in the car without a car seat and drive her 30 minutes home on a freeway. I am livid. We sat in the parking lot for an hour while she went to my house to get a car seat. Needless to say, she won’t ever be entrusted with my child again, even at home. Her judgment is obviously way, way, way off.

And when I finally do get home (after pulling M out of her swimming lesson because she was behaving terribly and refusing to follow the pool rules), the house is trashed, as usual. When I work 12 hours, no one picks up after themselves or my three-year-old, and there is food and cat puke and poop often all over the floor, dishes with food encrusted on them in the sink or on the counter, and today there was dried play doh on the floor. My child has eaten junk and is not in bed at 9pm when I finally get home. She is wound up, waking all night and up for the day at 4 am, which of course equals very poor behavior the next day (my day off). Basically, this is not working. I’m overwhelmed and anxious and have no way to clean up, be a good parent, get enough sleep, or maintain my sanity. Taking my grandma anywhere is out of the question, although I don’t mind too much because I’m sick of her pursuing non-viable treatments just because she feels that’s the only way to maintain control over her life. I have no solution for her but I’m not putting my kid’s life in jeopardy in order for her to visit every specialist in the state.

Universe, send me an answer.

Author: Mother of All Things

Mother by fostering, adoption, and marriage... wife to my best friend... Bay area critical care nurse... travel in my blood, reading in my bones, clean food on my mind!

2 thoughts on “coming apart”

  1. Wheh, that’s an intense day. I cannot believe the caregiver didn’t have a car seat. Seriously not okay. And the not picking up thing sounds worse than my dad. Over the summer when we were spending multiple days at my mom’d after my step dad died, I’d come home to the house a mess even if I cleaned before I left. My dad refuses to put his dishes in the dishwasher or clean anything communal like floors or toilet.

  2. When it rains, it pours. That sounds like a very frustrating couple of days. I’m horrified that the caregiver didn’t even have a car seat for M!!! Totally unacceptable. I saw your most recent posts so I know you’ve already got this sorted out but wow, I feel you here. It was very hard fining a competent sitter when my son was a baby and toddler. It’s so frightening when you realize the risks some people are willing to take with your child. Xx

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