The Blonde Sister is the biggest wuss on the planet!!!!
... just in case you didn't know....
Oooooo, I'm so mad, I want to SCREAM!!! I've been waiting most of the day for the Blonde Sister to call and let me know how Dad was doing, since he was going in for surgery to have a feeding tube put in. I talked to her last night and the plan was to have the parents go to her house after the surgery. She had wavered, saying, "Daddy will get pissed, and he won't want to do it," and I had given her several suggestions of how to get around him, finally saying,"Look, if worst comes to worst, just tell him that Mom looks peaked and exhausted, and could probably do with a bit of a rest. He'll do things for Mom that he would never do for himself."
"I'll try," she said dubiously.
"Don't try," I said firmly. "Do it. You know it won't be good for him to go back to that house right now!"
"Okay," she said more confidently. "I'll do it."
*sigh*
I don't know why I expected her to grow a spine overnight.
I waited, and waited, and finally, after the Husbandly One got home, he asked how Dad was, and I said, "No idea, no one's called yet, and I'm not sure if I should call the Blonde's house, or my mom. Of course, if I call Mom and she answers, I'm going to be really, really angry."
He nodded, said, "I know," and then, "Well, may as well get it over with."
So... I called Mom because... I just knew. I just knew. I had a brief surge of hope when the phone rang four times with no answer (she usually picks it up on the second ring), but then, just as I was about to hang up after the sixth ring... she picked up.
When I asked why she wasn't at my sister's house, she said, "Well, after you get your daddy in bed, you know you can't get him out again."
I blinked, then said, "You mean, he's still at the hospital?"
She said, "No, he's in bed here at home."
I said, "Wait... you were supposed to go to the Blonde Sister's straight from the hospital."
And it all went downhill from there. And I admit, I blew up, though I didn't yell, because Mom really doesn't deserve that from me. But I did let her know how unhappy I was and why I was so unhappy. And all the excuses, "He didn't want to go to your sister's," "I would have had to pack up all his paperwork, all his medications, clothes for both of us," just made me even angrier. I simply could not make her understand why it was so bad for them to have gone back to their house. And it was proven out, because he's down to 140 pounds, and he's so weak, he can barely stand now. He's in a great deal of pain, to the point that it's affecting his heart, and he won't sit up, which he has to do to eat, and to take his medication. Even with the feeding tube, he has to sit up to eat.
When I had finally had my say, Mom said, "You know how he gets. We weren't going to stand up to him. Are you telling me you would?"
"Yes, I would! And I have! You know that! When it's this important, you bet I would stand up to him!" I almost shouted. Gosh, I was furious.
I will tell you right now, my dad is the only person on this planet who scared me, and could set my knees knocking. Other people could make me nervous, but no one could genuinely terrify me like my dad. But even with that, I am the only one in my family who has ever stood up to him... successfully. I don't do it all the time. You could say that I pick my battles, and I was always the most successful when I knew I was right. He didn't like it, but he would back down. And it sounds like I may have to go to Houston after all and be the one to do this after all. If he doesn't die on us first.
Yeah. It's that bad.
See, he's diabetic on top of all these other problems, and he hasn't really eaten since last night. She said she almost called 911 a couple of hours ago, because of his pain but he "wouldn't let her."
Don't even ask.
I'll be calling her in an hour to check up on them, and to urge her to call 911 if his blood sugar drops any lower than it was when I called her earlier. I'm resisting calling the Blonde Sister right now until I'm calmer, because if I do call her now, I'm going to just start yelling, and that would actually be counterproductive. She'd tune me out, and I want her to hear every single word I say. So, I will wait until I am calmer, and can talk in that sweet, light, unaffected tone that those who know me best know means I am about to go in for the kill. And no, she doesn't know that, by the way.
The fact that she hasn't called me yet tells me she knows she screwed up big time, knows I'm going to haul her onto the mat, and is wanting to avoid it. She's expecting it. Therefore, I shall do what she doesn't expect, and nail her when she least expects it!
I was counting on her, dammit!!
*wanders off to snarl, growl, and tear things to pieces*
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