Feeling:
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Music:

I plea temporary insanity for my last three actions (for my own reference--int'l shopping). Gah, I hope they get it right!

Anyway, I realized this morning just how fresh my more recent wounds still are. My mom has been after me to type up my dad's poetry so that she can make little booklets of it to give out as Christmas presents, and me... being the Queen of Procrastination... have kept putting it off.

Well, this morning, she pulled her Goff Guilt Trip, and started doing it herself. Hn. And of course I felt guilty (I mean, that is the role one plays in said situation), so I took it away from her and started doing it myself.

Now, his poetry isn't anything exceptional, but he was always scribbling them down. I swear (even now, I'm getting upset), every word brought back a memory--mostly things I'd conveniently pushed aside because I didn't want to deal with them. I got one poem done, and by that point I was sobbing my eyeballs out. I just couldn't do it. I ended up taking them back to her, and told her that I'd try again later. Maybe after I've slept.

More depressing news: My ex-friend is not doing well at all. I'm not sure what details I gave in regards to her condition before, but it's really not good. First, they diagnosed her with diverticultis (sp?), then when the treatment for that didn't help, she went back and they found that her ovaries were absessed, and that the infection had spread throughout most of her abdominal cavity.

So, they went in and removed her ovaries, and a couple of other organs, including her appendix. They said she also needed to have a full hysterectomy, but since she wasn't conscious to give her consent, they had to put it off.

Shortly after that surgery, she started urinating blood. Clots of blood. Very disturbing just thinking of it, so I can't even imagine what it must've been like to be her at that point in time. Anyway, so they did the microscope thingy to check out her bladder, and found a "pocket" (yeah, that's all they're calling it at this point) sitting on top of her bladder that they think has been there since she was born. Oh, and they accidentally poked a hole in her bladder during that procedure.

You heard me.

They poked a hole in her bladder!!

And now they're wondering why on earth she's suddenly started throwing up blood.

It's times like these that I wish I had the means to have some weight to throw around in the world. I know I was all eye-rolly and grumbly about it before because of my history with the girl, but this is just plain WRONG! AND they're refusing to transfer her to another hospital. Not even for a second opinion.

She has no one. No family (seriously,I think her mother completely forgot that she gave birth 27 years ago, if the woman is even still alive), no influential friends, no one. My mom's just left to go over there. She's pretty good with her smooth and dry "It ain't rocket science" tap dance, but if those doctors have screwed up royally (and on a low-income, government-dependent, single mother at that), I think they'd rather she just roll over and die quietly than admit they've made a mistake somewhere.

Bah. I think I'm going to join the "I don't trust doctors/hospitals" bandwagon with Silver.

<< - >>

Save The Rayne! - 2004-12-27
Want some popcorn? - 2004-06-23
- - 2004-06-19
Pfft. - 2004-06-12
Wheehaa!! Going to see PoA! - 2004-06-02

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