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8 Weeks in Hell; Wait, Make It 9...Someone Just Kill Me!  

New2Midlo 54M
653 posts
11/1/2020 4:20 pm

Last Read:
11/2/2020 2:33 pm

8 Weeks in Hell; Wait, Make It 9...Someone Just Kill Me!

Now that I have a few minutes myself, I thought I'd highlight some of the fun I've had since September. Read previous entries see how we got here, with me downsizing and moving my parents Kansas.

The Move
Long story short, I did my best to juggle my professional responsibilities with getting my parents streamlined and ready to move. I failed at both. My parents were absolutely no help; zip, nada. Just the opposite. My mother wanted to take fucking everything. And every time I brought up the little point of 'you're moving from 3,000 sq ft to 1,, so you can't fit that', my mother's response was 'we'll find a place for it'.

Because I couldn't fly the dog (her aerodynamics suck), yours truly made the 23 hour<b> trip </font></b>from Florida, driving said dog. Said was an amazing little trooper and because of logic, she's become mine. Didn't want a dog, but she's awesome and a great companion.

We arrived the day before my parents were due fly in, so I took the opportunity to sleep in my own bed, if only for one night. (it had been over three weeks) I collected them at the airport and the fun began, starting with me going from living in their guest bedroom to living in my own.

The Steak
Having my parents live with me, in a word, sucked. I'll share one story that sort of encapsulates the whole experience. I had procured three fairly decent (the highest grade available in KC) ribeyes that I intended to grill for dinner Saturday night. Steaks should be as close to room temperature as possible, when throwing them on the coals; gives you a nice char immediately leading to a consistent medium rare center. So, in the morning, I pulled the steaks, threw some salt on them, sat them on the counter, and went about my business. When I hit the kitchen, later in the day, to prep for dinner, I found the steaks conspicuously absent. Long story short, my father put them back in the fridge so they wouldn't spoil. I was less than pleasant to both parents over the situation, because I take grilling meat very seriously. I tried again the next day, but the steaks had gotten too funky, after two days on the counter.

After a week of hell, their shit showed up on Friday. As expected, the amount of shit that was packed had the apartment busting at the seams. My mother seems to have brought roughly three large moving boxes containing expired food. My father's health had begun deteriorating (I suspected, due to the stress and energy he was burning) and my mother is in full regalia as she reigns as the regal drama queen.

It was with great joy that I shoved them into their semi-functional apartment on a Sunday night. I was awoken the next morning by my mother telling me that my father's condition was even worse and he couldn't get off the floor. Off he went in an ambulance, with me in tow, not far behind. Long story short, he'd apparently taken a header in my house and sloshed his head sufficiently for his brain to begin hemorrhaging pretty badly. Into surgery he went for the benchmark of complex activities, brain surgery. By Thursday, he was better than I'd seen him in months and the hospital released him. It was a bit early, in my opinion (and his brain surgeon), but whatever.

At this point, I was naive enough to think nothing else could happen.

Except, he became incontinent the first night home. After two days of it not getting any better, you guessed it, we went back to the hospital. By that time, I knew that place inside and out. Anyway, they got him stabilized and sent him to a rehab hospital to finish healing and regain his strength. Deep breath; okay, now things are going to even themselves out. Wrong! The fucker called me yesterday morning to pick him up from rehab, which I thought was strange that the call wouldn't come from a medical professional. You guessed it, he discharged himself AMA (against medical advice). We had a brief yelling match in the entry of the rehab place, where I found myself quite close to just kicking the shit out of him for being a dumb fuck. If a nurse wouldn't have been present, all bets would have been off. But the asshat walked out to the car and got in; should have locked it as he walked over. Water, dams, etc.

Sure enough, he came home and feels like shit. My response to his pain and ailments has been 'if only you had access to a facility that had doctors and nurses to address these issues...guess you're fucked.'

On the plus side, their house is under contract, after only two weeks on the market.

I just keep looking at the prize, six months out, that is returning to Richmond.


New2Midlo 54M
1075 posts
11/1/2020 4:20 pm

At least I got an awesome dog. She's not usually sideways, though


mufdiver69er2 63M  
1953 posts
11/1/2020 5:37 pm

i have read some of your earlier posts..and what im wondering is..how is parking them in the middle of bfe supposed to keep pops from blowing what wad you managed to save from more scammers?

woop woop


New2Midlo replies on 11/1/2020 8:16 pm:
They're in this shithole, because timing didn't allow for all of us to move to VA as a family / group. We'll do that in about six months. I'd never leave them here; pretty sure that would be considered elder abuse.

As for what money remains, my father has no access and that won't change.

Srmale6969 54M
1 post
11/1/2020 6:18 pm

Are you serious? Get over yourself and show your parents some respect. I am basing this comment of this blog post. I have not read your previous posts. Unless your parents molested you, abused you, etc. You need to suck it the fuck up and quit acting like a little girl. If your parents passed away tonight, you would be feeling like a POS dickhead the rest of your life. You obviously have never lost a sibling, close friends or relatives. Otherwise you would appreciate what you have a little more and maximize the time you have left with them. Shit you should be happy they are still together! I was just like you not too long ago. You are the same age my brother would be if he was still alive. So I can estimate that your parents are very close to my parents age. I used to get pissed off, bent out of shape, etc. when it came to the same shit you are dealing with. In fact I can't tell you how many holidays I fucked up for everyone because I was too wrapped up in what I had going on and even though I would help my parents, I had a shitty attitude about it. That shitty attitude would spread to others around me like a fucking cancer. One of the things I hated the most since I was a little kid, was xmas time. My mom has a shit load of xmas decorations and needs me to drag all that shit out of the storage shed and attic, and then set up all the lights, trees, lawn decorations etc. etc. etc. I literally made myself miserable event thinking about it. Every year I would give my mom shit about it and bitch and complain, and I would do a shitty job, in hopes she would not ask me to do it again. This went on for 40+ years. I would get so pissed off when it was time to take the shit down, that I would ripped all the outside lights down, breaking the cords, and lights. I was a complete selfish asshole. It was not until my mom was diagnosed with bone marrow cancer, that I started thinking differently. 6 years ago, when it was time to go to my moms house and dig out all the shit and set it up. Something in me changed. I was not pissed off, I was not dreading it, I was relieved, happy, thankful, appreciative, and I took my time. I set all that shit up the best I could and exactly how my mom wanted it. I was just so happy that she was still alive and still wanted my help. I felt so fucking good and I was so happy to be able to help my mom. It was a totally different xmas for my family. Until xmas eve when I noticed everyone was acting strange. For the first time in over 30 years or so, I showed up with no hat on, hair combed, nice pair of slacks and a dress shirt. Before dinner everyone was gathered in the living room. I was outside talking to my cousin. They called me inside, they wanted to talk to me. I was acting so different and I was so happy, they all thought I was on fucking drugs! They were trying to do an intervention on me! It took me over an hour to convince them, that I was not on drugs. I am a different person now and I try and appreciate every minute that I can spend with my mom or dad. Even if my head feels like it might explode at times. You need to rethink all those little things that you are getting pissed about. It is logical that if someone see's some nice steaks sitting out, that they think someone forgot them on the counter. So they put them back in the fridge. That means that your dad has your fucking back and was looking out for you and your steaks. He didn't do that shit to purposely piss you off. After you find out your dad put them back, you just explain to him why you left them out and have a laugh about it. I am sure it would not happen again. You are wound up way too tight. Give you poor parents a fucking break! Positive thoughts to you and your parents. Enjoy their company before they are gone and all you have left is memories of how pissed off you were at them.


New2Midlo replies on 11/1/2020 8:13 pm:
In the time it took you to share your trip down memory lane, you could have read one of my previous posts for context. But that wouldn't be a much fun as berating me, right?

jajo696 113F
4287 posts
11/1/2020 11:22 pm

I can hear the stress...its most likely stressful for them too. You gotta do something for you too....to balance all of this out...im glad you inherited the dog.

I think , in time, it will all work out....keep keeping on.

Try to enjoy them in whatever way you can.....while you can ~~


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