Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Thanksgiving, part deux

Oh FUCK, so much happens in a month. I don't even know where to begin, and I don't know how much time I have to tell any of this, as it's 11:42 PM and I should be in bed in 18 minutes if I want to be a fully functioning human tomorrow.
Ok, so, to fill in, in a Cliff notes way: I was mad at my sibs, because they didn't invite my family to Thanksgiving. My sister, Leslie, the one who flew the coop last Thanksgiving (I am sure I blogged it), and took off to b.c. to live with this loser brother of an old friend, well, she ended up coming home after New Years, after this dude roughed her up. Her hubby paid for the ticket back.
Then, she came home, got a job at Wallyworld, seemed to be doing well, but then took off again in June, again in complete secrecy. I can't even remember how I found out she left. So anyway, my sister, "Libby", the one who is born again and suddenly engaged, told me in Sept. that Leslie is coming home. I don't know the story, but I guess this prince charming she runs off too gave her the boot and she pawned some rings to fly home.
She didn't call or anything when she got here, but we were shopping at Superstore on Thanksgiving weekend, and we ran into Leslie and her hubby in the parking lot. So we did our "let's pretend nothing's happened since we last spoke in the spring" thing, and Rachel goes "so, are you making a turkey this weekend?" and she says "no, I am going to Lois'" and my jaw drops and I say "SHE'S making a dinner and WE aren't invited?" and she says dont' shoot the messenger. WELL. I am pissed all weekend. All three sisters and my dad are together in her little townhouse thing, eating turkey. I tell to tell them that I am pissed. I swore I wouldn't speak to them again.
So she calls the next day and says they thought we were going to the inlaws, etc., and that Lois doesn't have room, and yada yada, and not to take it personally. WELL, I am still pissed, but whatever, I decide to ignore them for as long as possible.
And then I get the call the next week about Dad being in the hospital, in the PSYCH ward. Our Dr., who is a family friend, told us that we had to admit him there, because nobody would take him anywhere because of his "aggression". He said he was ready to be moved to home for Alzheimer's patients, you know - the homes where they go for the long haul. Anyway, we go to visit him that night, and this chick comes up to Rachel right away, and says "Are you Quincy?" and she's shaken and goes "No" and I am laughing so hard, picturing her as Jack Klugman, but you know, I am pretty much Bret Somers with a cock, so it's not too far off.
Anyway, the long and the short of it is that Dad has to stay there under the care of a shrink until his meds get worked out and he's sedated enough (my words) so that he isn't aggressive, and then he will be eligible to go into one of these long-term care places.
I will leave it there for tonight, and I'll finish tomorrow or Thursday - there's SO much to cram in, and i don't want to leave anything out. But again, be prepared - it's a bumpy ride.
Peace out, homies'