B.S.C.

B.S.C. stands for Bat Shit Crazy, and I have been driven there.
I started this blog as a light-hearted way to document a little bit of life with Libster. The last week or so has been anything but light-hearted. Please pardon me while I vent a little.



Not news: She has arthritis in her shoulder. There is no cure. It will be a part of her life. It is also a part of millions of people’s lives. They get up every morning and move on as best they can. Are they in pain? Yes. Does it affect some of their daily function? Yes. Bottom line is God got you up in the morning, put breath in your lungs and gave you another day. Simple gratitude for that is in order.
Again I reference the “Magic Pill” theory. She pulled a fast one on me at the doctor’s office Monday and whined to Dr. Agerwol when I was not in the room about how the cortisone shot didn’t work, she needs something for the pain, etc.,etc.


That bonehead gives her a prescription for Tramdol. Bad idea. Way too much drug for that woman. Way too many side effects. A prescription for Jack Daniels would be much more effective and have less side effects. I am an anti-pill person anyway, so here is where Lib and I separate paths. She insisted on going and filling the prescription. (Which, by the way, was written to include anti-nausea medicine, since it is so potent and upsets most geriatric stomachs…can I get a WTF here people?) I made a point of discussing with the pharmacist in front of Lib, how this medicine is maybe not a great idea. Pharmacist may not be allowed to step on docotor's toes, but the one at Wal-Mart knows the score, and I have a feeling has seen plenty of Dr. Agerwol scrips go through there. Pharmacist also got the gist of why I was speaking the WAY I was speaking and said FOR me, just because the bottle says “Take four times a day as needed” does not mean that this pill must be ingested FOUR times a day. Lib however had THAT LOOK on her face and I knew darned well she was not listening to a word. All she was worried about was why the pharmacy had to waste putting it in a seperate bag when she can just put it in with her grocieries. "HEY - earth to Lib - Pay a freakin' attention here, would ya'??" (no, I didn't say it, but I really need to start doing that) I also know from experience that unless something is said by Reverend Doctor Mark, anything Phil or I say is dim-witted and completely ignored. And, I also know that if somebody with M.D. after their name tells her to jump off a pier into a raging river, then that must be the thing to do.


My recommendation as the person who has to deal --- at her age, plus that fact that is in one joint area and not all over her like it is in MANY people -- the homeopathic route is really what is called for here. Over the counter anti-inflammatories; Arthritis Pain Rubs; moist heat.


I sent a message to Mark as soon as we got home, because I knew he was going to have to intervene here and I also figured he would be on board with my feelings about the stupid Tramadol. He’s busy – at a conference or whatever and did not get back to me or call Lib to discuss directly.


Well, yesterday morning she got up, had her coffee and her Honey Bunches of Oats and took one of those stupid pills. She was sick all day. I was out picking up steel and running around for a project most of the day and she called about dinner time, miserable. Phil answered and she asked to speak to me 'right away'(?). She then proceeds to tell me very angrily how bad this pill made her sick, like she was mad at ME or something. It was probably THE worst conversation ever between us. Every time I tried to say something she cut me off with a shitty “Well, I KNOW!”
“Have you eaten anything today, because if you are sick to your stom-“
“Well, I KNOW!”
And on…and on… It was a ridiculous conversation that just got my blood pressure higher and higher.


Then she says she is calling the doctor in the morning to tell him those pills made her sick and she wants something else.

Oh, yeah, that’s a great idea. I’m betting within minutes of the Dr.’s office opening today, she’ll call them, then she’ll call me. She will want to know how soon I can come get her so we can go together to Dr. Agerwol’s and pick up the new Magic Pill prescription and take it together to Wal-Mart to wait 35 minutes together to leave with it, so she can go home and try some other stupid drug that is a crappy idea. I’m going to have to cut her off at the knees if that happens, because I guarantee THIS will not be the course of action THIS time.


She called back last night about an hour after the first call to tell us she was going to bed. THAT was a bad idea. (Phil had already said twice since the first call he was walking down there to give her ‘what for’ over all of this. I told him no, since she was already sick, yelling at her over wanting help with things and then not listening to us, being crappy about it, not thinking about how lucky she REALLY is at her age to be as healthy as she is, trying to make her understand that pain pills are NOT her solution….all of that would really fall on deaf ears and it was not the time for it.)


I hate hate hate that to get through to her, to make her wheels stop turning and actually LISTEN to what you are saying you HAVE to yell at her. Oh yeah…he yelled at her.


Phil and Mark have both referenced 60-some years of her life. She verbally wanders on in a one sided conversation with herself with her answers in her own head and Bill had to basically yell to make any important point and interrupt her thought process. Almost like whatever he yelled was basically like saying “SNAP OUT OF IT”. I get that. I’ve seen that be the only thing that works, plenty of times. AND I STILL HATE IT.


I feel like yelling at her is the equivalent of putting an express ticket to Hell on my debit card.


Thinkin’ today is going to suck.


Reverend Doctor Mark better get un-busy real soon, I need an intervention. Sorry ya’ll, I’m not trying to be a cry baby, but it HAS been frustrating in so many ways I have not even typed. Thanks for listening and wish me some fun stuff to share about Lib. She needs it and so do I. Is there a “Chicken Soup For The Arthritic Soul” book I can buy for her?


P.S. Can we all please get on the bandwagon to her when you do have conversations with her about homeopathic choices for this over drugs? Please.