Patience With Patients

Short and sweet today.  Maybe.   Bless everyone who has EVER cared for a sick parent.  In our case, we have a village helping, but it can be overwhelming.  So......when you call, text or email and ask, "What can I do to help?"  here is what we want to say but probably won't .

A BEER!

A monkey trained to fill out medical questionnaires.

Siri trained to fill out medical questionnaires

A good old fashioned fuck

A clone of every wonderful, awesome, crazy - good medical professional we encountered this week.

A professional gangsta' hit on the occasional lazy, make US call the referring physician ourselves for the orders you lost, even though you are sitting on your ass, at the front desk, talking about what you want for lunch medical UNprofessional. (Okay, a little harsh.  I will settle for giving you a wedgie you won't ever forget.)

To walk outside and find one of those bouncy houses they have at birthday parties for kids.  I dunno.  It just seems like the perfect place to jump around and act crazy when you are about to go insane from the remote being lost yet again, the spilled bottle of teeensy, tiny little pills and the television turned up to the volume of "render you deaf before you even hit menopause."  If the bouncy house has a tall, mysterious, beautiful man with a soul patch and dark, penetrating eyes serving as the attendant, then that is mo'bettah.  (See #4)

Just 10 minutes in a soft, warm feather bed to lie down and watch Mr. Rogers or The Happy Little Trees Painter.

Just 10 minutes in a vat of moisturizing cream to counteract the über drying effect of the gallons of hand sanitizer we are using.

A forehead tattoo holding the bar code for that stinkin' CVS  discount card that seems to have a maniacal desire to leave the confines of my wallet and wedge itself in the dark, dark caverns of my humungo purse.

A hook on my forehead for my car keys that head for the same cavern.  Maybe they are hookin" up.

A visit from the Patience Fairy when she is needed most.  (See #6. Hint:  * Hidden devil horns embedded in head and long red tail located right above my crack threatening to BURST forth with vigor at lazy, obtuse medical UNprofessional. Thank goodness that didn't happen.  It would have ruined my new skinny jeans and  those waiting room chairs are uncomfortable enough without the added problem of a glowing red tail to adjust).

A magic shield that renders us invisible during those odd moments in the middle of the aisle at the grocery store, in a meeting, or at the Starbucks when reality hits us and tears come in buckets.  Stop STARING at me.  Yes, I am crying in a really random place, at a really random moment in the condom/Cruex aisle. No, I am not crazy. These aren't the droids you're looking for.  Move along.  You can come back for your dick itch meds after I have my moment, storm trooper.

Unlimited time off from work and regular life to help the one who stayed up with me on many nights as a child.  It seems so wrong to report to work when your work should be spending every precious moment with your loved one and making the rest of their life as comfortable as possible.

A glass of wine to go with my whine.  Wow, what a little cry baby puss I am being.  Sorry.  I am over it.

LOVE.........That one you already gave us, dear friends.  Thank you.  Your texts, messages, calls and insanity free zones of coffee, get together including wine you made yourself,  trampolines in the middle of the forest and borrowed cars ARE magic potions of love, kindness and strength.  We thank you for every single one. You are the bouncy house bombdiggity!  I am a lucky, lucky girl.