'Safe'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Tep, your father is having yet another heart issue, you're stuck eating tunaglue, you have a wedding to go to, and you're still working on rebuilding a local network of friends following your escape from the FAC.
You are not whining. You are venting in a much-needed fashion to prevent yourself from going completely batshit.
you're stuck eating tunaglue
This really forgives a lot. Any day you have to eat $1 vending machine tunaglue when your back hurts and your knee is sore? A free day for venting.
Don't forget, I have your cell number and since you can't answer your phone in the ER, I'll be forced to leave a very long, very ranty, and sometimes very schmoopy message about how strong and supportive and CRAXY you are. DON"T THINK I WON"T!
Heh. And since she threatened to, I figured I would. And did. HAH! Silly Teppy. Very valid issues, you are having. Much better than "I'm too lazy to clean my house, but it distresses me how it's a mess", like some of us. :)
because it's the Santa Ana and it sucks.t checks thermometer
Yep.
If life starts imitating reality shows, I am voting against it.
venting in a much-needed fashion to prevent yourself from going completely batshit.Plei = wise.
"I'm too lazy to clean my house, but it distresses me how it's a mess", like some of us.Hey! This is totally valid. Not that I am doing the same or anything.
"Bereavement fares--how do they work?"
When I needed to fly back to NM for my dad's funeral, I just called the airlane and told the person I needed a bereavement fare. They were really nice about it. I would've rather just stuck my card in the computer kiosk, but for an interacting-with-a-person experience it wasn't bad.
I was jumping ahead to respond to this, both for Susan and for others who might have relatives in a bad way, and now I see it's maybe more immediately relevant than I thought? I gather something's up with your dad, Tep? Sorry to hear it, and I'll go back for the details in a moment. But this is for you and for anyone else -
Something I learned when my mom was ill - airline bereavement fares are not just to get you there for a funeral - they offer them as well when someone is seriously ill. I was in DC at the time, and my mom in Chicago. American gave me rock bottom fares for a flight in between, and I must have changed the return flights three or four times each trip, all without hassle or penalty. I had to give them my mom's name and the main phone number of the hospital she was in and that's it. I'd no idea you could do this. So if anyone does have a loved one having health problems, do check the airlines - going to see them might be a lot more feasible than you think.
I would give the hospital staff $1,000 to let us go the hell home.
I would give the hospital staff $1,000 to let us go the hell home.
Try this time proven method: "Dad, I'm beat and achey. I think I'm going to go home. If you need a ride home, I'll come back and get you, but if you're going to stay overnight just call me anyway so I know."
You haven't lived until you've witnessed me completely losing my shit in a public place. No, really. I saw the "cafeteria closed" sign and just started bawling.
Oh god, I totally know how that goes.
Steph - I'm so sorry about your dad's health (my dad's on heart attack three, and has apparently chosen to self medicate with cigarettes, beer, and porkchops), and I'm especially sorry that you're the only one who can be there to deal with it so it all falls on you. (FWIW, you are the Daughter of the Year in a lot of ways, and letting him take a cab home wouldn't change that. And dealing with someone who's stubborn.) It's really rough being on your own in a situation like that, and I especially especially wish you wouldn't keep feeling like you shouldn't throw some of that burden to us when you need to. Buffistas were my lifeline when my mom was dying - the only place where I only had to worry about me, where I didn't have to put on a front or put aside my own struggles to shore up other people. And I thank god for that. So bitch about your damn tuna sandwich, and bitch about your dad thinking it's as easy as putting him in a cab and going home and relaxing, and get it out in a place where it doesn't matter and there won't be hurt feelings and no-one is judging or expecting anything from you.
Brenda is wise.
The staff keeps making encouraging "we're-going-to-let-you-go-home" noises, but then drifts back out saying they still need to talk to Dr. So-and-So and Dr. ThatGuyOverThere.
In fact, nurse #3 just came in, saying the same thing. She's trying to get the IV out of Dad's arm and just said -- I swear to you -- "Let me just talk to Dr. ThatGuy."
It seems like freedom is imminent, for all values where "imminent" means "sometime before Monday morning." No, I shouldn't exaggerate. For all values where "imminent" = "sometime before 9 p.m."
Christ.