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CynthiaWVirginia -> RE: I Admit It I........ (3/10/2016 4:23:56 PM)
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I admit that my PTSD has been making me it's bitch these past few weeks and that I can barely leave my house.
I admit that my state also wants me to show up for jury duty. I went to Social Security to get my doctor's excuse, so to speak, but it's like worse than trying to go into an airport. Crippled people have to stand up at a huge screen computer thingy and answer question after question, as well as typing in their social security number (that shows up HUGE on the screen so that EVERYBODY in the room can see it). They also went through my purse and told me my cell phone would have to be powered down, found my 3DS gaming system (it's my anchor, like a service dog) and insisted that it be shut off because it could take pictures. Hello, it can't help me if it's off. Anyway, it was too hot outside to leave it in the car, and I was in a dungeon (Pokemon game) and couldn't get out of it to save for a good twenty or more minutes. So I left. If they wanted to make that place feel like a prison, they succeeded.
I admit that mom phoned and wanted me to come over to her apartment and I told her I needed to wait several hours, so I could eat breakfast (it's 6:30 p.m. and I still haven't eaten, BUT it's cooking, yay!) and not have to fight for one of the few available parking spaces. We talked some more and she ended up saying what she's been saying for the past week, some nasty little comment about my needing to go into a nursing home if I have this many problems (my lower right leg has been spasming off and on for the past three days, and other annoying stuff like that). I told her I've been worse, and...since I was also so sick of hearing the flippant nursing home thing I told her "just you wait until YOUR body starts getting as bad as mine and THEN we'll talk about this nursing home thing again".
I admit that during past chemos, past cancer surgeries, blood clots in my lungs, and even when I shattered my lower right leg and needed steel plates and screws put in it...she's never lifted a finger to help me recover. But when she even sprains an ankle, I'm the one who runs to Walmart, gets the correct size of Ace bandage and then wraps her ankle up. So these cracks she's been making about a nursing home has really chapped my arse. (I'm the one that took her shopping for hours and hours just a few days ago; I CAN get around, it just effing hurts that's all.)
I admit that when I mentioned that my doctor wants to start the paperwork for getting me an electric cart, mom responded that this means that I'm going to die soon. She wants me to drive her to Myrtle Beach this summer and basically walk my legs off and it's simply not possible. I offered a solution and this is what I got from her instead of an "Okay. I'm glad you thought of that". I reminded her that there are living people out there in wheel chairs, even people with no legs at all, and they're ALIVE and some are even living in HER building.
I admit that if anyone doesn't have a relative that won't turn on their hearing aid most of the time, to save on batteries, hears 1/4 of what you say and makes up the rest and then spends hours arguing with you over what they thought you said (but didn't)...then you haven't lived.
I admit that now I'm smiling...because though she's often a pain in my arse, she's MY pain in the arse. And I'm going to miss her someday when she's gone.
I admit that I wouldn't be as cranky right now if I didn't have to cancel going to that play party that's 3 hours away (they've just finished adding on a dungeon next to their home) because of car troubles.
I admit that it took me almost three hours to force this computer to get online the other day. It liked getting stuck in "loading".
I admit that I have to get offline right now to go to mom's apartment. I just want to go back to bed (last night was a rough night.) My ex-husband wants to spend over an hour on the phone (got rid of him a short while ago, and eek, told him he could phone back later) and my neighbor wants to spend several hours on the phone. At least mom kept it to just half an hour to an hour today. I'm beginning to feel like The Phone Slave.
(Bitch/whine/bitch/whine, lol, I'll be better after next week when I cane one of my bottoms.)
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