It’s amazing the only time comments are left on this blog is when we are in the ER and usually by someone who seems to ‘know’. Not deleted, just here.
You are welcome to your belief, but seriously- anonymous comments are so last year, and ‘Always' -'only' are very polarizing words. Concerned Citizen my ass. One possible thought: I've heard it all on repeat for so long, no real reason to read it all again...
I digress, if you would prefer I speak The Whole Truth, so be it...
Not everything is as it seems or for public regurgitation... you are welcome to reach out privately, should you choose.
Not deleted, just wrapped up in one place with a tiny little bow of, if you know- you know. If you don't know, come visit here. 9/25/2023
As we sit tonight in the ER room waiting for tests to be run and test results to be revealed, I read the now-deleted comment section.
For those who defend a caregiver, thank you.
For those 'who know all the parties involved' and the comment sections of this post 'claim the author of this post is fabricating and exaggerating for sympathy and attention seeking, thank you too.
If you know me, you know. And if you think you know me because of others. Depending, of course, who the Others are- you might be right.
Update and edit:
I no longer have the patience or time for them.
But a 2-minute blog post in a 24/7 hour day is not for the attention seeking they will claim; it is for a log of how hard this is. The weight of caring for another is heavy, and the lack of support and empathy from the others is vile.
I spent quite a bit of time doing updates today to multiple people to find us at this point...
Here is the current update for 'the others' who troll.
I am in the fucking ER with someone who just wants to go home, feels the doctors and nurses have forgotten about us, and again wants to be unhooked from all the machines trying to find a reason for the why's we came in.
The result was she declined further testing, took the lead off on her own, and then worked to remove her IV.
Blood everywhere, people scrambling, and a defiant patient who knew what she wanted and took charge.
When you don't know what you don't know- the updates are small and inconclusive. I was kind enough to give the updates you received- it won't happen again.
From the others who think they know- you don't, never did- never will.
I'm tired of the stress caused by the stupid and ill-informed- but must confess- the one who helped find a new cause to the illness that plagues her.
The result was this: The stress caused a tachycardia spell.
That led to better care in the ER.
We have a new path that can lead to answers, so... thanks for the stressful chat, I guess...
I'm asked to post my faults:
Honesty to the others whether they want to hear it or not.
Changing my life because they would never be that selfless
Being selfless without an angle
Direct and blunt conversations they call abusive and harassing
No interest in their feelings as my energy goes to one person.
Write a blog to be able to look back on and remember why we have nothing to offer them.
Knowing it isn't about me - or them.
Being okay with being their villain
I'm in an ER room, waiting on more tests and more results for an answer. Back the fuck off.
I don't lie- I don't exaggerate, but damn if I am blamed for everything anyone is unhappy with.
Do not like what I write?
Stop trolling me, I know who you all are- technology is amazingly accurate.
For the record, this blog isn't for sympathy; it's for a balance of perception and perceived reality.
This blog site is for The Others. They read this shit on repeat.
Don't want to read my words ~don't read it- it's not like I sent it to you personally. I mean- I'm dead to you, I'm out of your lives completely, and what was the rest??
Don't want a blog post about something you are involved with or, at the very least, complacent in the actions that lead to the post.
If you don't stand for something, you will fall for anything..
Guess you should check what is acceptable behavior in Alzheimer's care and what it looks like versus the opinions of the ill-informed.
She wanted to talk, so you tell her to take you off the speaker and hand me the phone. No evidence or receipt because you are smart and won't put that shit in writing anymore.
The things I know- I KNOW.
Asking what is wrong with me is a loaded question.
Truth is the others. If I could be without communicating with them- life would be okay, except- the question came as we were in the ER, hooked up to all the things, waiting for all the things- without answers to anything...
FUCK YOU for the drama. I'm done with updates.
You are on your own.
And less than 12 hours later, I relent.
My Faults this morning... redacted as usual...
In a heated discussion, the question emerged:
What the hell is wrong with you
?
Until next time...
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