So, I spent today preparing for a hurricane that may still miss us, but it's too soon to tell. And by 2 pm I was still in my yoga pants and unshowered, but the patio furniture was in, the pond filter was clean, all the laundry was done and ice has been bagged and the icemaker is busy making more, and dishes are clean and so on and so forth. Bring on the damn hurricane. Visited my mother late, saw the cardiologist, who said, yeah, she doesn't have congestive heart failure. WTF is going on here? Every diagnosis is retracted by the next doctor. So she's still in the hospital, I still don't know what the hell is going on, they're doing another chest x-ray tomorrow, but from here on I'm phoning it in. Seriously.
The only thing I can say with certainty is she's annoying as hell to deal with, and lies to the doctors, who on their part only half listen. What we have here is a failure to communicate. This cardiologist was charming as hell but didn't really focus on what I was saying either. And my mother was all pathetic and the plucky little old lady who just wants to get up and walk, and nobody will let her, woe is she, and then it turns out PT came to try to get her up, and she ran them off. Again. She is nothing but an endless litany of whining and excuses and crazy bullshit. And I'm supposed to sit there and help her with her dinner tray, because the staff doesn't - and I was there when the very nice, patient lady brought the tray and arranged it just so, tried to get her set up to eat, while my mother bitched and moaned. Then it still wasn't right so she called the aide, then she had to be moved around in the bed, then the food wasn't good and she didn't eat. And after a few testy exchanges about how she needs to quit acting like an ass and help herself, I just sighed and left. The best thing I can do, now that I've talked to the lung guy and and the heart guy, and both say nothing is seriously wrong, is leave her alone to stew. Because she told the doctor, all pathetic, that she is lonely and wants to be around people - she, who avoided people at the ALF and has picked a fight with her roommate at the nursing home, she's telling everybody she's a People Person! Priceless! Then a little more talking and what she really means by "people,"is that she wants me, me, me, there for her all the time, exclusively, just me, no other people can possibly do anything for her. She has to help herself, by eating, by doing PT, by trying to get along, and my presence is something she focuses on - it will all be better if only I am there 24/7. So, now that I have talked to the doctors and concluded that she is not at death's door, she's just her pain in the ass self, I am backing off. She needs to figure out what she wants to do for herself. I have more than enough on my plate already.
But at least the chair she rejected is appreciated - and the gold throw and pillows definitely suit him:
And I finished the scarf - still thinking the gauge was a bit too large. I know, it's a scarf, gauge doesn't matter, and there is nothing wrong with this one except that I think I'd like it better on a slightly smaller scale. May make another on a size 8 needle, and this can be a gift scarf. This is the problem with really special yarn - I can always second guess myself and want to make something else out of it. In the back of my mind I am still thinking that this wants to be a Clapotis, but I really do get more use out of a normal scarf.
And tomorrow is Monday, and we may or may not have a hurricane. Whatever. The patio is cleaned off and will stay that way, and the ice I've made will stay in the freezer until after Thanksgiving.