Big Child's Civics homework is giving me agida. There were two options, one for if you know the details of your family's immigration to the US (we don't), and one for if you don't (in which you assume your family emigrated in the mid-1800s and answer questions about their home country's political climate as of that timeframe). However, Israel didn't formally exist until 1948, the Gypsy Jews on my side didn't HAVE a home country, and I don't know as much about Sephardic history (re: his dad's side) to speak with any authority. So I basically had to e-mail the teacher and tell her "we're doing our best but we don't really fit in here." Which is a pretty good capsule-summary of Jewish history right there.
I spent all morning today from the time I woke up until I had to walk out the door for work doing administrative things relating to The Situation. In the process I handed over All The Money, leaving us at zero again, but at least I've taken the first step toward dealing with The Situation.* I've rather surprised myself in that so far I've been able to approach this logically, without catastrophizing or thinking ten steps ahead. It helps to think about what I would suggest a friend in the same situation do, thereby distancing myself from the whole thing by a degree, and then follow my own advice; I'm very sensible when it comes to other people's problems.
That said, I suspect that there is some degree of terrified irrationality lurking in the back of the closet of my subconscious mind, because of the way I reacted today when someone backed into the MFA Minivan. An older lady in a nice late-model sedan didn't look before pulling out of her parking space at Trader Joe's where I'd stopped after work to get a few groceries and WHAM! Rammed right into me. I pulled into a nearby spot, got out, and examined her bumper, which was unscathed, and mine, which was not. She pulled back into her parking space and got out too, clearly shaken, looked at me in apologetic horror, starting to stammer something, and I smiled and held my hand up. "She was far from immaculate to begin with and I'm fine. If you're okay then I'm okay, too." She gave a half-laugh, half-sob and squeaked something about the bumpers having done their job, and I told her to have a good day, and got back in the MFA Minivan and left.
I think some superstitious part of my psyche thinks I'd better hedge my karmic bets by being extra-kind to others right now, just in case.
* Lest Stalky ruin her desk chair in her excitement, I thought I'd go ahead and mention that in addition to this being nothing to do with Hotter or The XY, nobody here is in any legal trouble or dealing with any addiction- or mental health-related crises.
I have...a situation. Of the sort that money can't fix (although it'll probably cost a ton of money to address). If I go silent for a bit it's because I don't even know what the fuck to say.
P.S. Hotter and I are fine and for once The XY is behaving rather civilly, although I would take trouble on either of those fronts over this.
Today, before I went to work, Hotter asked me out of the blue how much I thought I spent in an average month on alcohol. "Fifteen dollars?" I said yes, most of the time it's probably that much, and he launched into a description of this computer game subscription thingy he wants, with the obvious inference I was supposed to make being that if I was spending that much per month on something for myself then I ought to be willing to let him do the same.
I cut him off at the knees, obviously, because Jesus Christ, man, the van cost $625 to get back on the road and I haven't paid the electric bill or the phone bill for September yet and were you not THERE at the dentist on Monday??? Then Big Child brought it to my attention that Bumpus has a goopy eye that is probably infected, and wanted to take him to the vet and I told him we'd watch it for a day or two and see. He kept pushing, and I finally snapped and broke my big rule of not discussing money with kids and told him I hadn't gone to the doctor my own self for a kidney and chest infection that could've killed me because of money and while I'd found a way to get myself the medicine I needed and be okay and would do the same for Bumpus, if I was willing to wait on medical attention for my own self for a major issue then Bumpus was going to have to do the same with his goopy eye.
I went to work and it was slow (by Eclecstasy standards), and I agonized over whether to spend $2.87 to get myself something to eat or not (that is how much a side of mashed potatoes is after the employee discount; it's the cheapest GF thing on the menu) and was disappointed with the money I made in the end, and then I came home and lost my shit. And told Hotter I couldn't fucking believe him, with the freaking game subscription thing. "Do you just not pay attention?!?" He said we were always broke and we always found a way to be okay. I said yes but we are in a state of emergency, WHY would you do that? He said "well you were certainly ready to go out and get a bottle of wine the other night," and I pointed out that I had been stopped by the van being dead and hadn't spent any money on anything for myself since then except some generic Cipro, some phenazopyridine, and a bottle of store-brand cough syrup. He then went off on a tirade about how rarely he tries to spend our money...
...and I realized that he really just didn't get it, that this must be a brain damage thing, because he was legit pissed and had NO FUCKING REASON TO BE WHATSOEVER and apparently no grasp on our financial situation, either. And that made me feel even more alone in all of this and hopeless than I already did, and I cried.
Posted on September 19, 2014 at 02:24 AM in actual conversations, anger shoes, Big Child, department of revenue, doctor, doctor, it hurts when I go like this..., Hotter, mama, my minivan, myself, terrible, horrible, no-good very bad days, well bless their hearts | Permalink | Comments (1)
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Middly: Hey Mommy? Is da new job going good?
MFA Mama: The new job is going very well. I really like it there.
Middly: Dat's good. Are dey paying you lots of money?
MFA Mama: I'm pretty happy with the money I am making there, yes.
Middly: If we can't 'ford it I understand, but I haff a question for you.
MFA Mama: What's up?
Middly: If it's not too isspensive, dere's a book I would really like to get, it's number two in a series an I REALLY liked number one. Da liberry has number free but I can't bring myself to read it wivout reading number TWO first and dey don't have dat and it's making me sad.
TAKE THAT, AUTISM AND DYSPRAXIA! Empathy! Reading for fun! Articulation of feelings!
Needless to say, I ignored the budget and ordered the book for him. The other two children ask me for things almost daily, usually video-game or food related, and with total disregard for what else is going on in our lives. Middly rarely asks me for anything, and was so polite and thoughtful about it that there was no way I was saying no to his book.
I think I will keep him.
I just wanted to let y'all know I'm not quite dead yet, and I actually feel a bit better already.
Mind you, I still feel pretty gnarly; I had to take first Big Child and then Hotter to the dentist today (at two separate times), and had to nap in between to be able to make it to the second appointment...it's like I'm feeble but okay for an hour or two and then start getting that drifting, echo-y, "you are going to hit the dirt" feeling back again. I'm guessing that the stress and grueling hours finally caught up to me and my body is just kind of done at the moment. I'm definitely better today than yesterday though, and no longer appear to be losing much blood, so there's that.
I still almost fainted when they told me how much dental work Hotter needs ($625 worth urgently, for the curious, and another $4,000 or so "pretty soon" but not in a manner likely to cause infection, so that will have to wait until I get on Eclecstasy's insurance in about eight more months). For those of you new to the saga or who may have forgotten, it's not his fault or anything, he just threw up so much due to gastroparesis before his transplants that his teeth are a hot mess. And we can't ignore them, because a dental infection in him could get ugly fast with the transplant-related immune suppression. So I asked them to pick the MOST urgent thing and they said it's two of the fillings, which will be $350, and I scheduled an appointment for him to get those done late next week although I have no freaking clue how I'll make it happen. I have to, so I'll figure something out.
As for Big Child, one of the double-decker canines fell out on its own a couple of days ago, and the other was so loose today that MFA Dentist said he could probably nip it out without even using any anesthetic and it wouldn't really hurt. Big Child freaked out though, and MFA Dentist said it wasn't worth a "procedure" so he's giving the kid three weeks to wiggle it loose (at the end of which, if it is still hanging on, we'll have to talk sedation options since Big Child is scared silly and way too big for the bear-hugger). Other than that, Big Child's adult molars have the enamel issue most people with our connective tissue disease suffer from and will need to be sealed at the next appointment. Big Child claimed to feel "really out of it from the drugs" after his appointment, but the strongest thing they used today was a flouride treatment so...yeah. Back to school he went!
Now if you'll excuse me, the cat needs my help getting comfy for a nap.
So last night I had a fever/chills thing going on, and was worried that maybe my chest infection had turned into pneumonia. The good news is, I don't think I have pneumonia! The bad news is, I woke up with crippling back pain, was like "WTF DID I DO???" and then it alllll made sense when I started peeing what looked like straight blood at work and having bladder spasms. This was bad for two reasons: peeing blood is not generally associated with winning at life and also we wear white pants at Eclecstasy. That plus the cough was just NO FUCKING BUENO. Plus as the day wore on and I tiptoed around with a wad of TP stuffed in my pants several co-workers did double-takes and asked me if I was feeling okay. In other words, the wheels fell off and my body was like "fuuuuuck youuuuu." I couldn't tell if I was dizzy because of the amount of blood I was losing (I doubt it, it always looks like more than it is and given that I don't have a period to contend with I can probably spare some hemoglobin, but...it looks bad) or because I was so damn sick, but I finally asked my boss if I could have fifteen minutes to make a couple of medically-necessary phone calls and paged the doctor on call for my GP. Their recording giving the on-call number specifically stated that on-call physicians would not phone in any prescriptions including antibiotics (which kind of seems to defeat the purpose of an on-call physician if you ask me, because otherwise what can they do besides tell you to go to the ER or suck it up until business hours?), but I figured the worst they could do was say no. Fortunately when I gave a rather minimalistic overview of my symptoms (I left out the fever and back pain and said it was just a tiny bit of blood) and said I felt like it was silly to go to the ER for a UTI but was pretty miserable, the on-call doctor grudgingly said he'd phone in an antibiotic and something for bladder spasms. VICTORY! Given my current uninsured state there was no way in hell the ER was feasible, or even an office visit. Three cheers for merciful on-call doctors! And also for very understanding bosses (the Big Boss himself covered my section for me while I sorted out the rx issue, and asked me if I was okay and offered to let me go home if I needed to, but I said I thought I could tough it out).
It turns out that was a tad overly-optimistic of me, and I did end up paying one of the early-outs $20 to close for me so I could leave an hour and a half early to go and get the prescriptions filled and die in the comfort of home. I was worried the meds would be unattainably expensive, but Cipro hath gone generic (cue choir of angels!) and the phenazopyridine was also gratifyingly inexpensive (the two together were less than $50!), and perhaps the Cipro will also kill whatever is lurking in my chest and this will turn out to have been serendipitous! There certainly isn't any way in hell I could've talked anyone into phoning something in for the chest infection, so I WIN!
Okay, or else mayyyybe I'm a little delirious. In any case I am off work tomorrow and hoping that a day of rest, a ton of cranberry juice, and antibiotics will have me feisty and ready to take on the world again by Wednesday at the very latest.
If the universe would stop smiting me for a bit now that would be fabulous.
And how are all of YOU?
* I picked the MFA Minivan up this morning, and when I got to the shop (chauffeured by MFA Mechanic's teenaged son, which is freaking weird given that I've known that kid since he was Middly's age!) a mechanic and an auto parts guy and a couple of other random dudes were gathered around a box lined with packing material exclaiming over it and scratching their heads. In that box? Was my (former) alternator. Apparently they don't usually catch on fire and/or melt, and mine was not actually connected by a wire. "It was just arcing in there! Your minivan is magic," one of them informed me. That's one word for the freaking thing...
* There is a special place in hell for people who tip $10 on $265. Not only is it a lot of work waiting on a party of ten, but when you stiff your server like that you are making him or her pay for the privilege of serving you, because he or she has to tip out the bar, food runner, and busser based on sales, not gratuity. If you are that guy? I hope you choke.
* Is there any way to tell whether or not you have pneumonia, without a chest x-ray or actual medical attention? I can't shake this cough, and it seems to be getting wetter and more vigorous over time. My ribs hurt from freaking coughing!
* My ankle is KILLING ME. It had gotten a little better, but today a co-worker used far too much force to fling open the door of a walk-in and in the process knocked me to the right, causing me to land heavily on the bad ankle. THANKS, CO-WORKER!
* After today's double shift, I really don't want to go and do it again tomorrow. I still love working at Eclecstasy IN GENERAL, but I'm getting a little Eclecstasy'd out.
* I say "in general" because there are a handful of people at Eclecstasy who desperately need to fuck off. I don't have a nemesis there, which is nice, but I can easily name five people off the top of my head who need to split an economy-sized bag of dicks amongst themselves.
* Thank you SO very much to E.L.
* I think I forgot to take my Pristiq and Synthroid this morning. In fact, I hope I did because today has been unusually bleak, and obnoxious people, financial ruin, sickness and exhaustion notwithstanding, I do not usually feel so picked on by life.
* How are all of YOU?
Posted on September 14, 2014 at 02:43 AM in anger shoes, blogosphere, bullets from inside my head, department of revenue, doctor, doctor, it hurts when I go like this..., ignorance breeds crowdsourcing, mama, my minivan, myself, terrible, horrible, no-good very bad days, well bless their hearts | Permalink | Comments (2)
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I just heard from MFA Mechanic. Apparently the cost of a tow has gone up since I last had to pay for one, and that was $85 (ouch). Alternators have gone up, too, it seems. With parts and labor, and including the tow, I'm looking at $475 to get the MFA Minivan back on the road (MFA Mechanic also belabored the point that one of the front tires in particular is going to blow "ANY MINUTE" but I told him one damn thing at a time, let's get it rolling and then worry about blowouts). I'm not sure it's worth that much, but I'm also not sure I have any better option than to try and get it fixed. Currently I have $132, a ride to work today (but no way home as of yet and no clue how I'll get there tomorrow), and no idea what to do. I'm actually desperate enough that I'm considering REALLY swallowing my pride and seeing if I can get a loan from the XY.