He’s running a 103 fever from sepsis that they are having difficulty getting down, and had to intubate him because his breathing was erratic. His arms are swollen and there is bruising. Now I hear they’re giving him platelets to try to thicken his blood.
Why? Most people who don’t attend a wedding do not get to see it live. Having it at a time that would be inconvenient for the physical guests so someone can see it conveniently over the telly is…
about as polite as inviting someone and requiring them to pay.
What’s inconvenient about a evening wedding. My own wedding was in the evening. But, whatever. It doesn’t really matter. I was lamenting, at the start of this at the weird time all the stations in the US were advertising the coverage to begin at 4am. Seemed strange to me. I knew full well they weren’t gonna call me for my input or advise. But it’s not that big of a deal. It’s all over but the crying.
This sounds awful – how is he doing today? How are you?
Ohgoddammit, I suck at giving gifts. I ordered an I.T. humor t-shirt for my bf’s birthday, and of course, I ordered a size off, because we’re only fucking living together. Went onto Amazon right after he opened his gifts … the return window closed yesterday. Mere hours after he unwrapped it.
Just heard from my daughter. She says the infection is from “strep type A”. His fever is down to 100.9, but his heart rate is still accelerated and they’ve got him on BP meds. Also anxiety meds. He’s been off the alcohol withdrawal meds for about 12 hours.
As for how I am, I’m mad as hell that he’s putting the family through this yet again. I’m supposed to go out there next week, but I’m not sure I can be civil to the guy at this point.
If it came from Amazon vs. a third party seller on Amazon, you may have luck calling customer service and explaining the problem. There was another thread around here somewhere extolling the virtues of Amazon’s customer service with regard to exchanges/returns.
Yeo, email Amazon. They are great about returns.
I think it’s BF’s chance to lose a few pounds*. Or bulk up, if it’s too large.
*I’ve got a stack of t-shirts I’ve “outgrown”. I’m keeping them – they’ll be my reward for someday getting back to Normal Size.
Well, t-shirts and a donut and a Coke Slurpee… and a whole pizza…
Your adult child killing themselves slowly with addiction (and putting their family through hell repeatedly) isn’t a mini-rant, it’s a maxi-rant! I’m also very sorry you’re all going through this; there are no good answers here.
Last Christmas my sisters appointed me Family Archivist and gave me three boxes of photos to sort and scan. Today as I was sorting through random folders of papers, I found my mom’s death certificate. That severely dented my day. I was in a good mood before that.
On the plus side, I only have half a box of random photos left to go through before I start scanning.
I remember the day my Daddy’s death certificate came in the mail. Seriously ruined my week. He died a few years ago and I am still trying to get courage enough to go through pictures and papers. Someday I will.
The magazine people are at it again. They drop off these young black folks in the neighborhood who have been coached to look vulnerable and sincere to play on white guilt, and to talk nonstop to keep you from saying “no”. I’ve dealt with this scam before and just point to the “No Solicitors” sign on the mailbox. I’d really like to have a word with the people who put them up to it.
There’s a reason I desire the room I live in to be far away from the front door and then never answer said door unless I know someone is coming over.
Then again, when I lived in my own house, I followed the Minnesota Rule of Company.
Friends and Family don’t knock on the front door. They come to the back door.
I was just driving along and happened to glance at my speedometer. Holy shit I’m doing 70 in a 40mh zone! It doesn’t seem like I’m going that fast, in fact people are passing me…Oh. Wait. My car has suddenly decided it’s French, or something, and is now giving me the speed in kilometers.
And I almost had a wreck trying to figure out how to change it back.
Some days I wish I had just kept my first car in good repair. It would be a classic today, and none of this computer nonsense.
Ask the kids if they’ve seen any money yet. Because actually I think they are vulnerable and sincere, and they’re also usually a long way from home and pretty dependent on the people who brought them there.
Reason #128 I don’t live where other people live.
So I get a college fundraising appeal disguised as a class letter, (ghost)written by a classmate whom I don’t recall. He starts out by relating the tale of a man traveling on his donkey who becomes weary (oddly enough it’s the guy and not the donkey who needs a rest) and stops to observe a little old man planting a carob tree.
Our traveling nitwit asks the old man how soon the tree will bear fruit and is told “70 years”. He asks the old man (rather snottily in my view) if he thinks he’ll live another 70 years to eat the fruit and is told “I don’t know who’s a bigger ass, you or the animal you rode in on. I’ll plant the fucking tree if I want.”
No, supposedly the old man patiently explains that he’s planting it on behalf of his children and grandchildren. You may be able to see where this is going.
So I responded that since I have no children or grandchildren, never mind any dumb enough to apply to this school, I’m instead donating money to the Nature Conservancy to plant a shitload of trees.
No, I thought about saying that but instead described a scene from the musical Zorba!. Zorba the Greek, who’s an Official Wild and Crazy Guy, tells of encountering a little old man planting a tree. The old man says that he lives like he’ll never die. Zorba on the other hand grins broadly, throws out his arms and shouts “Me - I live like I’ll die ANY MINUTE!!!” And then everyone starts dancing the bazouki, or whatever.
Sooner or later the college is bound to stop sending me these mailings.
*I donate money to the Nature Conservancy, partly because they don’t mail me fundraising appeals that are this stupid.
Colleges get plenty of money from rich assholes who want their names on things. That isn’t ‘planting a tree’, that’s self-aggrandizement and bragging rights.
You’re helping plant trees. Good on ya!
I silently put up with these mailings from my school, just ignoring them. Until they had Mike Pence speak at graduation. Now I’m going to demand to be stricken from all their mailing and alumni lists.
As soon as I figure out what to say – I wanted to just write “Pence? Ewwww…”
I’m thinking of referring to him as Vice-Perp Pence.
Back when I was going to college, I was working on the OG Volkswagen Bugs. I really miss cars that were 100% mechanical. Not sure I could match wits with computerized cars.