Saturday, August 15, 2015

In which - wait for it - there is more Sly and Doris drama! And alcohol is involved!

I know. You thought that while Primo was back at home, after Sly's knee surgery and Sly and Doris' dislike of the very nice retired RN (the one who makes soup with "no flavor") who would be perfectly happy to help Sly and Doris with household things for $20 an hour, which they can afford and frankly, is a bargain for someone who is willing to put up with those two, that Sly and Doris would be busy getting their affairs in order and finding either home help or a retirement home.


They have done nothing except now some friends of theirs have moved to a retirement home in Atlanta and now they think that is what they should do but have not done anything beyond saying, "We would like this place," anything like ASKING THE FACILITY WHAT IT COSTS AND IF THERE IS ROOM.

A visit, of course, is out of the question.

Which makes me wonder how they would even move - if they can't even travel to visit a place, how will they move there?

I was just going to gripe about my happy problem that Sly and Doris had finally reimbursed Primo for his travel there - which is excellent -  but had done it by giving him hundred-dollar bills, which is not so excellent, as we are not in the habit of making huge purchases in cash and I am very reluctant to ask a cashier to break a hundred for a $4 coffee. I have been a cashier. It stinks when someone wipes out your cash drawer.

So I was going to gripe about the hundreds (but fake griping because yahoo! they are finally paying!) but now I have something real to gripe about.

Primo woke up this morning to a phone message from his brother Ted.

Someone had to go to the ER last night.

That's all he said.

I was all cranky at Ted for not being more detailed, but then I learned that he got a message from Jack, the other brother, which said about the same thing.

So Primo called his mom and dad and discovered that last night, Sly fell. Sly weighs 260 lbs. He asked Doris, who weighs 110 lbs (5'9") to help him up.

"He should have known better than that!" I said.

Primo answered, "Ted talked to him last night about ten and he was drunk. I suspect his judgment was still impaired."

Sly asks Doris to help him up.

She tries.

He falls.

On her.

On her knee.

Her knee is so painful they call an ambulance. The EMTs get Sly up (your tax dollars at work!) and take Doris to the ER.

"She didn't even get into a room," Primo said. "She thinks they have her on a list because they sued the hospital last year."

They did an x-ray or a scan and discovered nothing broken. Sent her home at 4 a.m. in a taxi.

She is - how do I put this? - incapable of toileting herself. Last time Primo was there, he got a potty chair down from the attic.

(Note to self: Ask Primo why his parents 1. own a potty chair and 2. moved it from where they used to live, assuming they didn't buy it where they live now.)

However - she did not have the potty chair.

She had a small wastebasket.

Which she used.

Mostly successfully.

Primo will be going there again in three days (on April 13). "I guess this is why I needed to get the taxes done before April 15th," he said. "In case something like this came up."

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