The past week has been hell on earth. Momma is in the ICU on a ventilator. The people from her church have let her down. They have been completely hypocritical.
For over a year, my brother and I have been trying to get help for my parents in their home. They have pushed it away over and over again. Every time my mother goes in the hospital, the church folk ask us what we need. We always say, "Someone please stay with my father." Then he sends them away, saying that he doesn't need help. They turn around, go home, and think they've done their churchly duty.
This week has been different.
The Reverend Mother is gone. She is out of commission. She is on a ventilator, and those people who go to see my mother, instead see my father, shaking in the corner, unable to form a sentence.
They decided to listen to us. They decided to stay with my father all night. Then they decided to begin to call my brother and myself and tell us how much we needed to come out there and stay with my father.
We said no.
No.
No.
No.
Thanks for keeping them out there for so long that now she has the possibility of dying across the country from us. So sorry that my father kept you up all night and peed on your floor while trying to get to your bathroom.
We told you. I came to you. I went multiple times and bared my soul, telling you that my father was weak and needed help.
You decided instead of listening to me and realizing that it was HARD to admit that my father, my daddy, the lawyer, the kicker-of-ass in the courtroom, NEEDED help to get to the bathroom at night, that it was okay to dismiss me.
Now, you issue me a deadline. You tell me that it is too hard to find people to stay with my dad at night. They are too tired in the morning. He can't make it to the bathroom. He is confused and disoriented at night. You tell me that I have to find someone by tomorrow night.
Screw you.
So I thought about going back to church one time. I went. The air conditioner was broken. People I didn't know tried to hug me. We sang insincere songs about Jesus being my boyfriend. It sucked.
Then, these lovely church people at my parents church are as supportive as their Bissell steam cleaner will take them. So my daddy pees on himself at night. No shit. We have been telling you that for months.
Now, you have to deal with it.
We are coming to move them. No sooner. We are not coming to wipe up after him. We are only coming to move them. You will have to step up and deal with them until then.
Good luck. You will need it. We have tried everything but luck, and every time, we come up short.
Tonight, I sat and listened to my brother try to convince my father to call his doctor and order his own home health care. Please, Daddy, call your doctor and admit to him that you need someone to stay with you so that you can get up in the night and make it to the bathroom in time. No, Daddy, we still respect you. Yes, Daddy, we want you to still have your dignity.
We are so sorry, church folk, that you have had to clean up piss. I would give anything to have him close enough to me to clean up his piss. Why don't you get a life? Leave my parents alone and let them go. You obviously can't handle it. We can.
I'm ready for people to actually help me help them instead of running around talking about helping them.
I'm so tired.
Oh, and by the way, I'm on "vacation" this week. Translated, I cancelled all plans and am hanging out at my brother's house trying to be an adult and make plans for my parents who haven't transferred power of attorney to us.
I'm so tired.
