She's home. She's doing well. She's walking with a walker. Last week's blood tests resulted in four transfusions. This weeks tests showed her count didn't drop. This means that cancer treatments (once a month over two days by IV) will begin again next week, good Lord willin' and the creeks don't rise! All in all she's doing very well. Adult Protective Services is useless as... Well... I won't write that on here. They showed up this week (44 days after initial visit without contact) with a walker, a potty chair, a wheelchair (all of which we had the first time they showed up) and a hospital bed (which we don't need and don't have room for). Two days later they showed up again demanding an interview so they could "close her case". They aren't going to even attempt to do anything about the hospital booting her out when she couldn't walk, nor about the gross negligence of the oncologist nearly killing her. What's more, there isn't another oncologist who will treat her with the once a month treatment for over 400 miles so we still have to use the same joker. But... She's doing well.
My PTSD, nightmares, cluster headaches, and social anxiety are worse than ever. I don't sleep. I either don't eat, or I gorge. My eyes are worse, my hands are worse, and the family wants to get me to a neurologist to get tested for Parkinson's (my great grandfather had it)... As though I had time or means to do that. It is what it is.
My grandmother's (Momma) mind is still bad more days than it is good. I'm hoping we can get that straightened out, but with the way things are?
Hoping and praying ya'll are doin' as well as you can. God Bless.
Richard