I'm too exhausted to write the details of the last few days. They kept my mother in the hospital for another night. I can't stand to go into it now, but the healthcare system is rotten to the core. Not the people working in it but the system. The people working at the hospital have been sweet and kind and generous. No complaints there. But the not for profit greedhead MBAs who had a better idea of how to "do" healthcare. . . well, we all know how terrible but somehow satisfying it was that people cheered when the CEO of the big insurance company got murdered.
So. . . I got to sleep at home one more night. I got home from the hospital late and ate takeout bbq too close to bedtime. Today, I will begin my new life as caregiver. As I've reported, I've come to love the comforts of home. I will not have that for a while, nor will I have any ability to travel. I'm going to be stuck with home care, cooking, and Gunsmoke.
Maybe I'll be up for telling the tale in a few days. Right now. . . I'm a walking zombie.
Here's my new dating app description. Beautiful.
"Old, white, single male living with 93 year old mother."
I'm lucky I started Dry January on Dec. 26. I'm two weeks into this shit. Otherwise, I would have been looking for the hospital bar. I'd have downed a fifth of scotch these last two nights. Still, it is difficult to watch two lives dribble away while sober.
"I'll take easy listening and two Xanax for fifty, Alex."
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