We've moved house.
The packers came on Monday and boxed everything up. The movers came on Tuesday and moved all the boxes from the old house to the new house.
The At&T guy came on Tuesday and wasn't able to connect our new phone line. After 12 or so calls, over 3 hours on hold with various AT&T operators, lots of frustration and angst we finally got connected today. The thing that really pissed me off was that AT&T took our order to transfer service on May 23rd and didn't say anything about the new homes not being spliced into the main phone line. It wasn't until after we moved in that they told us we wouldn't be able to have a phone line until JUNE 22nd. JUNE 22nd. There was no way that Dave and I were going to leave the kids home alone with no phone service whilst we were at work every day, so we were totally prepared to take our business to the alternate phone provider...and had we not found someone with AT&T who actually did what they said they were going to do, we'd be surfing the 'net on someone else's service right now. However....Peggy in Ohio really came through for us and got us connected earlier this afternoon. She's an absolute angel, and we really appreciate her efforts. The rest of the people we spoke to, though......well, they can kiss my big white ass. They were fucking useless. That's all I have to say 'bout that.
I start teaching people to knit in a couple of weeks. I'm really looking forward to that. The money will be pretty nice; I get to keep 90% of the fees - but it's not about the money for me. I'm just happy to be able to show other people how to take two sticks, some string and create something beautiful and practical and made with love.
My female patient fell and avulsed a LOT of skin from her forearms. I have to go over tomorrow morning to change her dressings. The wound care nurse who came out last week felt like I was capable of taking care of it, which made me feel pretty good. I left a note for the other girls who come in for the evening and weekend shifts, telling them that they were NOT to touch the dressings without washing their hands with anti-bacterial soap first, and under no circumstances were they to attempt to change the dressings. Mrs (name omitted for obvious reasons) is going to have a hard time healing those big wounds (she tore about 10% off one arm and close to 45% off the other) and doesn't need people with dirty hands messing with her bandages - that's just asking for trouble. I think that she's going to need to have one wound debrided next week anyway - she's got some skin that's looking pretty dead and I'm worried about it decaying and causing an infection. She's incredibly lucky to not have broken anything - I told her that her falling was the exact reason that I don't want her to get up unless someone else is there with her. She ignored that advice last weekend, and that's why she fell. She got up and tried to walk into the kitchen, got her feet tangled up and went down like a sack of spuds - despite having a walker in front of her.
*sigh*
Every morning when I arrive at their home and walk up to the front door I wonder whether today will be the day; if I'll walk in and find one or both of them on the floor, unable to get up....or even worse. It's a very real possibility, and I'm acutely aware of it. I wish that I knew what to say to them, what the magic words are that, when I speak them, will make them see that an assisted living facility is really the way to go for them, that living alone is just too dangerous and is now detrimental to their health.
I wish I knew what to say, because I'd say it again and again and again. I can't even begin to tell you how much I would rejoice if they told me tomorrow that they'd decided to move. Yeah, I'd be out of a job, but I'm willing and even happy to make that sacrifice if it means that they'll be safer.
However, my wishes are just that - wishes. As my husband says, 'shit in one hand and wish in the other and see which fills up quicker'. Although I'm perpetually constipated, I know which one would be full sooner (that was probably too much information, wasn't it? Oh well. Deal with it).
I'm still going to keep wishing, though.
