My very young (read aged 54) aunt had a mild heart attack yesterday. If that wasn’t bad enough, she is the sole health care provider for her husband, my maternal uncle, who has debilitating rheumatoid arthritis. This guy has had more wrenches thrown in his gears than anyone I know. It’s not just like he gets a sore knuckle when it rains. He has metal plates keeping his head attached to rest of his body. He’s been wheelchair bound for years and been in the hospital more than the mom from 19 kids and counting. He’s an amputee and really can’t do much for himself. Yet he still takes time to work on his art, root for NASCAR and give me a load of crap on my voicemail if I don’t answer my phone right away.
Being my uncle’s nurse for so long, my aunt takes care of all of his meds. He couldn’t tell you what exactly he takes or when and he’s on a LOT of meds. She worries about that for him. My mom’s concern over her baby brother included medication related issues. I assured her that there were enough competent people around so she wouldn’t worry too much and feel like she HAD to go up there and cancel her very important plans for this weekend.
And then I got word that my uncle OD’d. He’s ok now, but he took too much of something and was rushed to the hospital. Oh, and we just found out that my aunt has to have triple bypass surgery. My goodness. I have one really awesome thing that’s really my focus right now and two pretty stressful things that are competing for my attention.
Never ask the question, “What else?” because you probably won’t like the answer.
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