Working from home today, getting a crazy amount of laundry done. My goal is to have every bit of laundry done, with only what I am wearing in the hamper at the end of the day.
Also waiting on the exterminator to remove a wee wasp nest that is between my window and screen.
Then there will be floor sweeping and mopping.
Got the voting done.
Busy as a wasp!
Mornin folks! No votin’ here either.
As to poor FCD: Here are two stories to perhaps share with him.
If you were a caregiver, or even an interested bystander, there is always guilt after the infirm person dies. It doesn’t matter how much you did, including herculean efforts, you could have done more. And you know it. The trick is to persuade yourself that what you did was enough. And its the total over your/their life that matters, not the last 2 weeks or whatever. And don’t remember to allow the other person agency. e.g. if late BIL would have refused the kidney transplant anyhow, it’s not your fault you didn’t override his wishes and force it upon him. It’s his. We can all lament his stubbornness, but don’t blame yourself for his behavior.
My late first wife has been dead over 2 years now (Wow!). I still often regret the things I left undone for her in those last few days and hours. But I’m long past guilt over it, and never had debilitating guilt, just significant guilt. No one who was there believes I left a single stone unturned, a single thing undone. I know different. But I’ve managed to get to where I can live with that knowledge. Not because I’m cavalier, but because clairvoyant perfection in the heat of battle is an unachievable goal and I know that my emotions want to hold me to that unattainable standard.
Story 2:
A good friend of mine developed hepatitis. Probably from a needle stick as a first responder. A youth of drugs followed by a life of drinking didn’t help though, and eventually at age 60ish his liver was crapping out. And yet he still drank. Not alcoholically, just socially and heavily.
As he was getting acute there was quite a fight among the care team about whether he was a good enough candidate for a liver or whether his general decrepitude and unwillingness / inability to curb his drinking made his case hopeless and just a waste of a otherwise good transplant candidate. He turned over a new enough leaf, or persuaded them he had, and he did end up getting a replacement liver.
Which liver he killed by drinking over the next 5-7 utterly miserable years. Miserable both for him and his angelic spouse who cared for him at home night and day for the whole decade-long descent. His death was a tragedy, but it was also a relief for everyone who’d ever known or cared about him. People who refuse to help themselves eventually become a burden too great for anyone, including themselves, to carry.
IMO FCD’s BIL was cut from this same cloth and was following the same path. And would have with or without a new kidney. The details differ, the big picture does not.
As others have rightly said, Logic isn’t effective here; FCD will have to emote his way out of the spot he’s emoted his way into. At the same time, intellectual awareness that there are other ways, and other reactions possible, and that other people have gotten through it, gives the hope he doesn’t use his logical brain to reinforce being stuck, rather than using it to pull, however weakly at first, towards emotional recovery.
Switching targets … I hope the situation with truefish’s Dad becomes clear, and more calm soon. There is so much wrapped up in the infirmity and death of a parent. Most of us get to live through that, but none of do well with it, and especially at the time. Big {{{hugs}}}.
Regular heaving. Apparently Shaggy has a thing for one of the blueberries. TLC has a song for her.
And Raleigh isn’t participating in elections, because they moved it to coincide with the rest of the state and national races.
Sorry FCD is feeling guilty.
You’re going around stabbing and posioning people? 
Venom is mine, says the wasp.
And the poop just keeps piling up. When they got back to MIL’s apartment, BIL wasn’t there, nor were any of the bottles of his meds. But his car is in the parking lot. Needless to say, MIL is a mess. FCD called and I convinced him to go to the police. So he was on the way as we spoke.
We could drive every street in the county and never see a trace of him, and much of the county is heavily wooded. Then there are the rivers and creeks…
Thanks for listening - hope I don’t drag any of you down with me. Dammit.
We’re here to listen and listening won’t hurt us, just keep taking care of yourself and your family.
Now would be a good time for FCD to have the POA papers for his brother on him so hospitals and doctors will be able to talk with him about his brother.
Given what you’ve told us, this way more experienced with this kind of situation than she wishes she was nurse thinks the likeliest thing is that your BIL has been taken by either the police or ambulance to a psychiatric treatment facility. When a suicidal person is transported it is procedure to bring all their med bottles with them so doctors have reliable info about what they might be dealing with.
Text FCD, see if you can drive the POA papers over to him, he’s going to need them.
But unless he called for help himself, I don’t see how that might have happened. And if he’d been picked up somewhere, surely he’d have called his mother. I forgot to ask if he’d taken his phone with him. Not going to call, tho - I’ll wait to hear back. I can always fold my laundry.
I’m pretty sure the POA papers are in the car.
What a horrible selfish man.
I feel so badly for poor MIL and hope the worry doesn’t hospitalize her as well.
If you run out of laundry to fold, ironing is a nice mindless activity for worrying.
While I own and iron and ironing board, I don’t iron t-shirts, jeans, or sweats. Or towels. Or sheets. I suppose I could launder the curtains and iron them… um, nope.
Got a text - BIL OD’d and is in the hospital. That’s all I know for now. Except that MIL is fed up. Waiting to hear what’s going on.
Afternoon all. Am on-board the ship in the easiest boarding I’ve ever had, now waiting for my luggage and for the attendant to separate the bed (I get along with my roomie but not that well). Sail time is at 4pm and Dinner will begin at 5:15. Have pretty much explored the ship and it’s not as big and grand as some others but It’ll do just fine.
FCM, can’t imagine what you and FCD are going through right now, sending good thoughts your way.
Wear a mask!
Not a mask to be seen. We’ll see how it goes.
FCD is back. Pissed off!
BIL went down to the front desk at the apartment this morning and told the receptionist “Tell my brother I did it this time - I took all the pills!” Then he went and sat on a sofa down the hall. She, of course, called 911 and the cops were there really fast and took him to the ER. Apparently he took a bunch of his anti-seizure meds and his BP meds. Once ER clears him, it’s back to the behavioral unit;
While FCD was with his mom, his brother’s phone rang - it was the social worker who’s been trying to reach BIL for the last week - all her voicemails went unanswered. so obviously he had no intention of following doctor’s orders. She’ll be at the hospital tomorrow and plans to seek him out.
Meanwhile, MIL is reviewing her entire course of parenting her youngest son, trying to figure out where she went wrong - for that alone I’d gladly throttle him! The poor lady is a mess.
Anyway, FCD will call in a bit and find out if BIL can have visitors - he’ll take his mom over there this evening if so. I don’t know… I just don’t know.
Oh, and I have to wonder if his little declaration to the receptionist is going to get him kicked off the waiting list for an apartment - stupid ass.
< deep cleansing breath >
Truer words were never spoken.
Did NuStep, back bend machine and leg press at the Fitness Center. Washed dishes then zoom call with Stem Cell Transplant doctor. Hubs’ sister is no longer the donor as she had a detached retina 3 yrs ago so whoever the evaluator was, said the process might put too much strain on her eye. Apparently there are about 4 other candidates, all of whom are apparently in their 20’s and the doctor said that younger stem cells are better (Hubs’ sister is 60).
Had Mediterranean Lentil soup with tomato basil wheat thins and extra sharp cheddar for lunch (also a few, well 4 Milano orange chocolate cookies). Then took Hubs to the Fitness Center so he could use the NuStep. His doctor had given him a bit of what for this morning since he hasn’t been keeping active. Of course last week when he was getting chemo and the week before when he was in the hospital, he had a valid excuse.
Starting to make Million $ Pasta Casserole for dinner.
rocky thanks for being part of the laundry trifecta since I didn’t get around to it today.
{FCM} We are here for you. I neglected to say earlier that it is very tough when someone you love is going through a situation like FCD and MIL is. You would do anything to take away the ‘unpleasantness’ but most times all you can do is be supportive and loving and we know that you are. Hopefully there will be a light at the end of the tunnel in the not too distant future.
MRI has been read. My fibula is busticated at its head. No surgery needed. Just keep on doing what I’m doing. Crutches and rest for 6-8 weeks. The pain on the other side of my is some sort of cyst. Ortho wants me to repeat the MRI with contrast. Sigh. I had to have medicinal potato chips upon hearing.
FCM. I sorry that. FCM MIL is going through this. I had 2 brothers who drank and drugged themselves into early graves. My mom always said it was her fault. That’s just what moms do and you cannot convince them otherwise.
Howdy Y’all! Laundry got laundered and put away. After that, we went to the battery place to get a new battery for OYKW’s almost daid key fob. The guy at the counter got the battery and put it in the fob, which was nice. I don’t know. Maybe that’s just what they do. Still nice, I think. After that we did the drive thru at DQ to get burgers, fries, and, of course, Blizzards. Oreo for OYKW and M&M for me. Then back to da cave to eat the burgers and fries. The Blizzards went in da freezer of the beerator. Nappage was then achieved. Instead of day drinkin’, we et the Blizzards whilst sittin’ in the gazebo at the cee-mint pond. All in all a nice day with some activity even.
MOOOOOOM I just don’t know what to say. Just hope some kind of help for BIL can get figured out.
I’m sorry you and your hubby and MIL are going through so much, FCM
I’ve known a few people who tried to OD and they weren’t allowed any visitors for a week, or maybe 10 days.They weren’t even allowed phone calls for a period of time.
Ouch Wetone
JtC, my dogs are always happy when I get down to their level. At the old house I’d sit at the top of the stairs every morning for some cuddles. It was about the only time Ripple would cuddle. He didn’t like to cuddle too much. Echo likes to cuddle a bit, but she stays stiff . The GR will melt right into me.
Shoe, my son has no idea what cats are capable of.
Adam is not much of a jumper. I think because he has such a fat ass.
The old house has window ledges outside and there was an old cat who used to jump up to the LR window and look in at us. He was big, fat, and old. I don’t know how he made it up there. The ledge has to be about 6 feet off the ground.
One day Adam made it up there. No idea how, but he did.
I know he can get over a 5 foot fence. It would probably not be his first choice, but he could do it.
My son just doesn’t know it.
We’ll leave early to take my son to irk so we can stop by the house to take the bin in, check on Adam, and empty the dehumidifier. Not that we need to check on Adam anymore, but I know he will be happy to see us. I guess we will be going by every day until the house sells.
Im meeting with the realtor Sunday to start the listing. She’ll put out a coming soon listing, and once we’re done with the repairs, it’ll be listed.
I hope it sells quickly.
I just want to be done with it.
Hope that your power is back on soon VanGo.
Good thoughts for your dad fishy.
{{{FairyChats}}} I have no words, but we’re here for you.
Irked, SSDD. Sometime during the course of this evening, Nelson has wiggled out of both his collar and his flea collar. I’ve looked around a little and still don’t see it. If I have to get down on my hands and knees to find it, the little turd is grounded. 
Stay safe and healthy y’all!
One thing at work is they are upgrading all the ice and water machines, and they already took out the Good Ice Machine. 
I thought about filing a grievance, but settled for ordering a countertop model from Da Jungle. I napped, now I’m having a Manhattan and watching some hockey. Redneck Stirfry for dinner tonight.
Also, on the dog front, there’s more Canine Flu, and another dog death, so the shelter is closed till December. 
Spot also prefers eye to eye contact with his primate slave.
Sounds like somebody lost at canine strip poker today.
{{{{FairyChats}}}}. I’m sorry y’all keep having to go through stuff.
{{{{WetOne}}}}
The rotten little booger’s evening of going commando is over. After getting down on all fours with a flashlight, I found them in the little place he likes to hide under the bed. No Hammy and Olivia video for Nelson tonight!