Life is looking a little crazy right now.

Let me start this by saying... I thought we all agreed that 2025 was going to be a better time. Like... just in general and away from all the tomfuckery that has managed to invade our lives the last... however long it's been. Are we all stuck in some crazy fever dream right now?

I digress. Because if not... well... it's been a long couple of weeks.

Dev and me have been in Florida for over a week now. And while that may sound like vacation fun for most, let me assure you, if this is your idea of a vacation, neither of us EVER want to go on vacation with any of you. NEVER EVER.

A few weeks ago, Dev's daddy had to be rushed to the ER. After a week in the hospital, he was diagnosed with pancreatitis, told he had a pocket of fluid above his pancreas/pushing on the back wall of his stomach, and needed his gallbladder removed. He was sent home to "manage the inflammation" until his doctor returned from vacation. 

Cut to the Friday before last...I get a call at work in the afternoon from Dev telling me his daddy's friend is taking him back to the ER because he's in so much pain. So I immediately call my boss, pack everything I need to work remote, and headed to the house. We loaded up the car and our babies and to Florida we came. It takes us approximately thirteen hours to make it to the part of Florida we need to be. Luckily... this isn't exactly our first f*cking rodeo.

Eleven hours after making it to the ER waiting room, my FIL was finally admitted... and he's been there ever since. I'm not usually one to complain about healthcare. I've worked it... I've lived it... I understand it... I KNOW things can only move so fast and you can only do so much.

But when I tell you this has to be the most frustrating hospital experience of my entire life, I'm not exaggerating. I dealt with a lot of crazy shit when it came to Momma's health... A LOT. But this? Come the f*ck on. He was in the hospital from Friday afternoon (admitted Saturday morning) and they literally did no testing on him until Wednesday. Which is when they did the CT scan... and determined the fluid pocket hadn't gotten better under their "supervision"... it had actually gotten worse... and there were two.

You know what that means? That means his Thursday gallbladder removal was cancelled, and a Friday endoscopy with drainage was scheduled. Should be fine, right? Cool... it happened... they drained, put a stint, had a look around. Cool. Informed us they had to go in and do it again on Monday. Ok... but they don't know if or when they'll be taking his gallbladder. Why? Because they want to see if the inflammation can be managed. You mean the inflammation that had increased by six because this wasn't handled three weeks ago? And then what?

Don't know. We've had three doctors... doctors... not nurses, techs, administrators, case managers, no... DOCTORS tell us THREE different things and while they all start the conversation with "I've conferred with my team of fellow doctors" not a damn one of them seems to have EVER talked with the other two. They're confused, unfocused, and quite frankly, I don't understand how my FIL thinks they're so fantastic when literally the ball has been dropped at every opportunity presented.

He gets a new tray each time there's a meal because they can't agree on which diet he should be on... he was told to tell them as soon as as he feels pressure in his spine because they need to manage his pain for the inflammation... and then proceed to get lost in route to their medcart. And before people get butthurt, YES, I know nursing is a stressful and strenuous job and things happen out of your control. Multiple patients, one of you. I get it and I empathize. You can't drop everything for one person and you're not at their beck and call. I get it. However, when your patient has strict instructions and you leave their room and say "I'll grab that and be right back" and then I have to track you down over two hours later because at this point he's in fetal position pain, that's a f*cking problem. I shouldn't have to find a completely different nurse, ask where she is, get the response "I have no clue where she is" and tell them to find her before I throw a temper tantrum level hissy fit that would make my ancestors raise up and be proud of my level of petty before they assist him and do what the orders say.

COME ON. 

Unless you are working the triage unit of the ER... why the f*ck are you not on your own floor taking care of the patients assigned to you?

I didn't pull this shit out of my hat... they're your rules and guidelines and you're not even f*cking following them? Over two hours later? If your time management skills are that shit, perhaps you should find a new career. This one? Not for you. And I say that holding alot of love for nurses in my heart... this isn't an attack on all nursing. This is calling out one situation that repeated itself more than once and they still can't manage to get a handle on it. 

The entire thing is frustrating because they seem as confused and unsure as the rest of us. Hey guys, it's literally y'alls thing to have a plan. That's the whole reason he came here. For the third time. With pancreatitis. That still hasn't been handled. Because it keeps getting put off. And no one can seem to agree on a f*cking game plan.

Fun fact: this is the third time he's been admitted to this exact hospital for pancreatitis (the first time was March 2020).

Fun times. Hopefully, we'll find out something after the second endoscopy/drainage tomorrow, but with this team of doctors and staff? I'm not holding my f*cking breath. Mostly because I don't trust a damn one of them to know how to get me breathing again once I pass out.

My FIL? Pissed... irritable... angry... all the adjectives that encompass being rude and shit to my husband. And yeah, I understand he's frustrated and at his wit's end and he wants to go home, but f*ck, Dev is literally the ONLY person trying to help and he's getting a f*cking flogging for it. My BIL? Fantastic at being completely unhelpful and self-victimization. So... that's fun. Everybody else? Has an opinion or excuse but no justified reasoning.

And my husband? Bless his sweet, big, amazing heart. He's trying his best and doing all he can. We've been to the hospital everyday to visit, get updates, and cleaned the house inside and out. Cleared land, cut trees, kept the pups on their schedule. And all he wants is to do all he can to help get his dad better... he's not asking for praise or anything else... but not making his life more difficult by fighting, arguing and treating him like shit would be much appreciated. He didn't put anybody in this situation, and he 's doing all he can to help, and somehow he's the bad guy?

Yeah... I'm f*cking over that. My husband has a heart condition and I can't in good conscience let his mental and physical health be determined by shitheads who want to act like children. So... something has to give. Or, I'm going to have to make it give.

Thinking maybe we'll just load up our babies and disappear into the mountains never to be seen or heard from again by any person we've ever come into contact with throughout life.

TBD.