Fractured pelvis without displacement. They took her to the ER this evening, to get a damn ortho to look at her, because the earliest appointment they could get was for FRIDAY. Seriously. Fractured Pelvis. 82. We'll see her on Friday.
Who are these dumbfucks who claim we have the best medical care in the world and if we move to universal health care, we'll lose it? Obviously, people who haven't played the game at this level. Boy, are they gonna be surprised when they get there.
Meanwhile, I have no idea what level of care she will need going forward, or if the $6,000 a month it costs now is going to look like a fond memory. I can't think about that now. I will think about that tomorrow. Fiddle-dee-dee.
When and if we get past this and I ever have a life again, I'm thinking of the remedial classes I need:
How to Make Light, Interesting Conversation with People Under 80. Advanced Level: Flirting! Like Riding a Bicycle!
Swapping Personal Stories: How to Make Shit Up When Reality is Scary.
and of course, the final in the series:
Dating: What Normal People Do! Will Include Field Trips to Restaurants, Movies, to Re-enter What Other People Think Of As Normal.
Damn, I do have a really weird life.
I'm sad and tired and totally unable to remember a time when life wasn't insanely "challenging."