Tonight, or more specifically this afternoon I guess, Mother was admitted to the hospital for blisters. Ridiculous, no? But there are extenuating circumstances. You see, Mother has Diabetes. She got said blisters and because of complications arising from said disease, did not know she had them and they have become infected. So badly that she is on IV antibiotics.
Sister, closely followed by Father, both called me to update me on what was happening - I don't live in the same city you see. I couldn't even think of what to say to either of them. I started reading my sister a particularly hilarious post about a microwave perhaps to distract her from her upset? More likely because I felt more engaged by the microwave analysis than the fact that Mother is in the hospital. Am I a bad human?
The one thing I did think to say to them was to please let Mother know that the parcel full of chocolate-y goodness she so kindly sent to Husband and myself for Christmas has been driving around in a delivery van all day, in 28 degree (Celsius) heat. The company guarantees delivery to residences by 5pm on delivery day, so I want her to know as I know she will be suitably outraged by our lack of candy.
The other thing I ponder is whether Mother did this on purpose. I really don't believe so and evidence to support this belief follows...
- She can't feel her feet, and thus the blisters on it.
- Due to recent surgery, she can't see her feet, and thus the blisters on it.
- She already has enough health problems so I don't expect she would willingly add to this.
- She had a podiatrist appointment lined up for this week and when she called to confirm, the podiatrist's receptionist informed her they had no record of her appointment, or of her as a patient (where she has been going for 5 years).
I think I might blame the podiatrist for this wonderful piece of pre-christmas family upset. Blaming seems like a sufficiently good human thing to do, and I am worried about whether I am a good one.
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