September 22, 2009: Pain and Doctors

What's up with my Mook?

Well, things are crashing about at La Maison Mook. It began yesterday when Mook A woke up almost crippled with pain. When the nurse arrived, I felt compelled to see what was going to happen by staring through the window from the balcony (where I am exiled when she visits). This was not a fun visit. She did something, he screamed, she did something more and he was writhing in the bed in agony, groaning and crying so that I could hear him even through the closed window.

After they'd tidied him up, got his pants back on and repaired to the kitchen to discuss things, I rushed over to that window, which was open, to listen to it all. It turns out that his condition has seriously deteriorated and that some of the wounds they thought were healed aren't, in actual fact, and that all the wounds may actually have become one big mess just under the surface of the skin. This means that the surgery he is supposed to have on Thursday may not be out-patient after all and that they may need to keep him in as it will probably be a more serious affair.

While my first impulse was to rejoice (as this will give me a little more free time away from his constant harping and yanking at me during walks) I realized it also meant that until Thursday he was: a) going to be in a lot of pain and b) going to be in a considerably pissy mood. Moreover it meant that if he was gone for a bit then I'd be left alone with Mook B who is working all the time and pretty much walks me when he can. I mean, why is it always me who is suffering, goddammit!

Anyhoo...

The nurse told A that she would mobilize to get him decent painkillers to get him through 'til Thursday but as of now, 36 hours later (and with his doctors gone for the day, the fucks), he doesn't have them and his pharmacy did not receive the fax for the order. It's going to be a fun night with him bellowing in pain every two seconds and getting on everyone's nerves. He's actually considering doing pot for the first time since he was a kid just to get through the night and in hopes that his doctors will do what they were supposed to do.

So this is it...I don't know when I'll have access to the computer again as I don't think A is going to leave it on when he's away. So I'll just have to keep mental notes until he's back, up and around. That should be a fun time. He's such a goddam kvetch during the best of times, can you imagine when he's just out of the hospital after they've cut him up!?

Yikes!