Wednesday, November 13, 2013

I hope I die before I get old

Jeff's parents are both in the VA hospital.  They are busy NOT DYING, fyi

Both of them have tested positive for MRSA.  Which means Msomething Resistant Strain of Ainfection that cannot be cured by any known antibiotic.  Maybe I don't have that exactly right but you get the fucking DRIFT.  Do not go look up images of MRSA if you ever want to sleep again.

His dad also has 3 kinds of cancer.  Yeah, we tell him he's a goddamned over-achiever all the time - taking chemo drugs, so he is immune compromised in a big way.  ALSO?  His dad contracted cellulitis (deep tissue skin infection!) and that turned into gigantic boils on his neck, which led to a blood infection!  He ALSO has Grovers Disease which is a skin rash that is not curable.  Like a cold, they can use palliative measures (it puts the lotion on or it gets the hose) but they can't make it go away.

His MOM, otoh, has the MRSA, with an added soupçon of thyroid problems (the problem is she wasn't taking her fucking meds), extremely low blood pressure (down from extremely high!  wheee!  roller coaster!) AND A SKIN RASH OF UNKNOWN ORIGIN.  SHE is in a negative-pressure room in the DOU.  What that means is she has her own room because they have no idea what this rash is and the DOU is Direct Observation Unit.  They have ruled out scabies (oh jeebus hold me) and an allergic reaction and now it's an episode of House or Monsters Inside Me up in that ward.

Jeff's brother, the Intrepid Keith (who is 56 years old and still lives at home, but la la I don't care because he) is the caregiver of these two, and has tried to get tested for MRSA but because he has no fever (and no health insurance *ahem*) they wont test him so he could be a disease-bag-carrier, but who knows? 

The two parents have had infections of one kind or another (including the MRSA) for over a year.

Do you itch yet?  Are you fucking creeped out yet?  Because here is the icing on that infectious disease cake:

  1. We decided long ago to just order pre-cooked dinners from the grocery store because none of us wanted to cook that day anyway, and:
  2. I am working on getting a housecleaning service in there to disinfect the whole place (gasoline and match, anyone?) and:
  3. I don't know what 3 is.
  4. OH the nurses and doctors aren't really concerned, they say you can 'acquire' MRSA from the grocery store and that everyone is probably a carrier, so it's not that big of a deal.  EXCEPT they gown up and glove up whenever they are near these two.
  5. I am advocating a Skype Thanksgiving but everyone feels like this may be the last one (insert inappropriate joke on my behalf) and seem to feel that simply disinfecting the place will be enough.  I am not pleased.
 They are on different floors in the hospital, and they both seem to be really enjoying the whole thing but in different ways.  Jeff's dad LOVES the attention from all the nurses and doctors (because several docs have looked at him because *see above list of disgusting ailments*) and his mom is kind of a Blanch Dubois type.
Keith is loving it because he gets the house to himself for a week, with no medication schedules, no falling old people, and no talk of disgusting sores.
None of the 3 of them were concerned about these infections until old Gladys The Logical stormed in.  I have LONG taken a back-seat on his parent's health issues because I hate my own parents and have no idea how to effectively deal with anyone else's, and it's (really, sincerely) none of my business.  But this is ridiculous and I was the one who insisted that mom go to the hospital, and I AM THE ONE who takes notes and talks to the doctors and nurses.  And so I am now the one in charge of this mess and if you missed the Alanis Morrissette Irony of the whole I HATE MY PARENTS thing then go re-read that paragraph.
I have washed their sheets in hot water and bleach but like I said, we are going to get a housecleaning service in there this week before they get home.  I need a Shark Steam Cleaner thingy.  FOR MY SKIN.
So anywhozle, I'm a little busy is all.  I've been reading y'all but no time for comments I have to go take another hot shower with bleach and put on my sexy new outfit.


  1. Good luck, Gladys. I wouldn't go....but that's just me ;).

    1. Dude. I KNOW. I was also facing the moral dilemma of telling the cleaning service about the MRSA (and risking that they wont come out) or not telling them assuming that if it's so common, they are well aware.

      *sigh* as much of a bitch as I am, I'm going to tell them. I just hope some service is up to this task.

    2. I am almost positive that there are services that will clean--there are cleaning services that clean up crime scenes, after all. It may (it WILL) cost more. :-( My advice to you is to guard your own health. Can you tell them you don't want to overwhelm them with a Thanksgiving if they are just out of the hospital?!? --LuLoo

    Yeah, you can get MRSA in a "grocery store>" How interesting-this was EXACTLY what the "Hospitalist (ahem, the first line of defense against lawsuits/couldn't even get her DAILY MEDS RIGHT) told my antique BFF, Rita. After they admitted her for pnemonia on a Thurs., prematurely discharged her against her Primary's advice on Sun. night annndd.....readmitted her for MRSA to a negative pressure room the next Thurs. Note she was *not* near any grocery stores or anywhere except the hospital.
    Good luck, Gladys. Skype the turkey: Save yourselves! Cooties aren't just for kids.

  3. The only thing I don't like about this post is that I understand most of what you are discussing and not so long ago I wouldn't have gotten half of it. And no I would avoid their house like the plague. No pun intended.

  4. good lord, you guys need your own reality t.v. show.

    Q's Sis

  5. Sipping my orange juice while reading this and I think it just curdled!

    Don't go! Great excuse would be you don't want to expose the old folks to any germs you may have and truthfully, giving the poor buggers a run-of-the-mill cold at this point could prove fatal.

    As you know, my folks are older than the pyramids and I dread getting that old in case I end up being a miserable bastard like the old man. My NPs seem to genuinely enjoy being sick. NF basically brags to anyone who will listen that he's a diabetic even thought it's so minor he had no idea until a teeny tiny hint showed up on a routine blood test.

    IMO Hospitals, retirement homes and nursing homes are the best places to go if you want to get sick and die. To make matters worse, old foggies seem to lose all sense of routine hygiene (if their generation ever had it). Mine didn't even flush the fucking toilet most of the time and that may be why their place always smelled like piss!

  6. My father caught MRSA in the nursing home. At first the nursing home people were suiting up in paper gowns and gloves, and by the time he passed, everyone was just using the gloves. One of my co-workers caught MRSA in the middle East, and his experience is if a boil arises, he has to get it lanced. He has a young family who are healthy. It sounds like open sores are the key to spreading it. Good luck with your decision.

  7. Thanks guys. Cleaning service coming today - $400 - worth it.

    I am going to be washing every damned table cloth and napkin in hot water while they're there - of course I'll be there to take charge because HELLO IT'S ME.

    MF in regards to the old folks not taking showers, I KNOW, RIGHT? *shudder* it's fucking disgusting.

    They are both 'cleared' by the VA hospital to go home, and they said they are not infectious. I know I know - TW I agree but I am powerless against the tide. I just wash my hands (and my SELF) a hundred times a day, l I have bleach wipes there that I use on door knobs and the remote etc, and I am having the cleaning people use that shark steamer on all fabric chairs.

    Jeff is prone to those giant pimple-things on his back (SORRY) that I have to *ahem* take care of or they get really boil-y. He's had a couple *ahem* taken care of at a Dr.s office and bandaged and packed with um, packing stuff. I worry that he is prone to them? Is it part of your lymphatic system? Are we doomed? (let's see, where is that life insurance policy?)

    I am STILL finding at least one bobby pin every day. In different places (like, when I walk at the river bed or the bay or a parking lot). My dog Charlie stares up at the ceiling for minutes at a time like someone is talking to him, but he's not a very bright dog so it could just be air molecules. Weird.

    I told Mike to start researching 'assisted suicide' on someone else's computer. He needs to put me DOWN when I get to this point. Oddly enough, he agreed pretty quickly. HMMMM.

  8. Maybe he beat ya to the Life Insurance policy thing?!
    Yeah, this personal hygiene thing and old people: Yk, Huggies aren't just for kids. When you get to the stage of life where taking a shower becomes an "ADL" you NEED these things. Just sayin' I buy 'em by the case at BJs. AND USE THEM. After a certain age, it's like puberty-in-reverse, so you don't grease up like you use to or smell like you use to nor are you ABLE to smell like you use to like, "Hmm, this food? IT'S RANCID." That does not mean, however, that those around you have lost THEIR olfactory senses which means you need to be sensitive to the fact you are gettin' RANCID and a Huggies Hussy Wash ain't gonna do the trick or turn it either. If taking a shower is that much of a drain, instead of "inspecting" your stool (and boring everyone else with your endless descriptions of literally, shit) go get one for the shower stall. Place it in there, place butt on top. Grab removable shower head. Turn on water to desired scorch. While steam cleaning, grab body wash/soap and use liberally. EVERYWHERE. Use shampoo, *please use shampoo* on head. Rise copiously. REPEAT. (For once, damnit, believe the directions.)
    Pat dry like a turkey. Season liberally with body lotion. Now powder up, buttercup. Just like a little kid again. Put on CLEAN clothes from the inside out. Otherwise, you have defeated de purpose and de feet etc. will give you away with de odor. Cheap or expensive, perfume or aftershave can not defeat 'stale' despite old, popular delusions. Or hallucinations.
    There. You are now fit for public or private consumption.
    YOU KNOW who you are stale, smelly old people!!!!

    Gladys, Since youre the official "picker" in the family, do you have one of those metal thingys for black heads and white heads? They have metal "loops" on either end? I'm asking because it makes that task if you're the designated picker a little less...yucky. Put some grease/lotion on those spots first-it makes it a whole lot easier than if the skin is really clean like right out of the shower soap clean. Is Jeff diabetic? Has he had a fasting glucose draw recently? I'm wondering if he's just a huge staph incubator-no WAIT-GLADYS-WAAIITT!!!!
    Happy Turkey Day ;) Tell 'em they can keep the left-overs. Maybe you can Chinette it? Disposable plastic wear? Dollar-store deals?
    You poor woman. Haysus. All's I have to do is shove a turkey in the oven, make the rest of the stuff and wait for people to arrive. My home, my rules: You don't get to sit here and stink up the place interfering with the good smells of holiday cookin'.
    (Charlie, whatcha lookin' at? Hi Mike! ) See Gladys, you're tying up loose ends (and biohazards) just like Bess said!

  9. TW, I love you. SRSLY this comment made me laugh like 3 times.

    1. Yes people, you can smell and not notice it. Bathing isn't optional. Old people smell funky, their houses stink of funk, their closets stink of funk - just wash.
    2. I DO have one of those picker things! Jeff's back is a treasure trove of um, fun. I know it's horrible, Its lucky that he married a picker. I like when people get sunburnt and I can peel them. I KNOW I'M GROSS!
    3. I'm bringing paper plates and napkins and plastic forks etc, and they can have all the leftovers. I'm outy.

    Thanks y'all. I need to update soon because I have gotten nuclear angry a couple of times as these people encroach my boundaries. I've had a come-to-jeebus talk with one of them already. I'm about ready to drive to your house, TW for turkey and talk.

    1. I'm a picker too, Gladys. I agree it's gross, but at least you have company! My NM used to make me peel her back all the time as a kid. NSis and I used to fight about who got to do it. Maybe that's where my obsession comes from. She used to make me rub lotion on her feet all of the time too and paint her toe nails. And brush her hair. I was telling DH about this the other day and realized how fucking weird that is. Other people's moms don't do that, do they? And the really weird thing is, she'd never do those kinds of things for me. I rarely remember her "lovingly" taking care of me like that. Anywhoo, I'm off on a tangent.
      Update soon! I'm curious to hear what has been going on. Guard your fences, dear, you've worked hard to erect them!

  10. Gladys, Have you electrified your Boundary Fence? No? OK. In case of emergency, those things they call "Cattle Prods" that get the PETA people in an uproar? Actually, they have a very interesting-and NSA/family guarded-history:
    Shortly after Lizzie (and co.) took care of bid'ness, another enterprising AC entrepreneur had a "Eureka!" moment and invented a "Conditioning and Learning Tool for Boundary Busting Family Members of the Recalcitrant Variety" aka, the "C&LTfBBFMotRV." A Marketing Pro advised the AC this "socially suspect" invention, while a necessity and highly useful tool, the patent name would not bring about the desired return on investment if it were marketed at such. "How 'bout cows?" the wise AC suggested considering at this time agriculture was widespread and the rest is, well, a heavily guarded fact of AC history.
    The grateful descendants of the AC are on the Forbes List of Wealthiest 1%ers every year. The families have lived happily ever after knowing their birthright includes the right to be treated as human beans with dignity and respect or they'll be zapped into compliance-or poverty.
    And worse yet? Obscurity: A fate worse than death for CBs or those so bent in that direction their long suffering family members deserve (minimally) a Taser for Home Use free of charge through their Family's philanthropic endeavors. Since your's are old, stinky, rotting hypochondriacs, you can introduce it in it's box that has a large label, "Artificial Heart Stimulator" since they don't have a real one. Henceforth, bring your "AHS" to every family gathering where you have somehow been manipulated/obligated to participate and as soon as they start with their disruptive behavior? ZAP...ZAAPPPP...
    After the first coupla times? You'll never have to deal with them again-one way or another ;)

  11. Gladys, when I get that far down I have requested that Miss R fumigate the house and leave me inside..

  12. Put this on your calendar....
    Nov. 27 - arrange to have a meal delivered to their house on T-day.

    Also, call them the evening of the 27th claiming to have a flu bug, (that of course will last through the 28th)

    Then lock your door and pull the shades in case anyone shows up to 'check on you'.

    Have a nice T-day at home....alone.