You Knew This Would Happen, Right?

I had to visit my parents on Friday. So you know where this post is going.

First, lets get the bitching out of the way.

You may remember that my brother visited back in May for my father's 90th birthday. Since I didnt see him, he left a present for Spudly with the folks.

A slight detour to give the backstory: when I were a wee thing, I had a china Bunnykins bowl. I started eating solids from this bowl. I remember eating cereal out of it before I started school. With nary a thought that I may like to have it for MY kids, my mother gave this bowl to my brother when he had his first child. I have never got over this. Call me bitter if you like. You'd be right. The bowl had sentimental value to me, and none to him. Not to mention the fact that it is now worth a fortune. [She also gave his son my STAMP COLLECTION without asking me. MINE. I spent my whole childhood collecting those stamps. Gave.them.away. Yes. Bitter.]

Back to the other day: So what, therefore, could be the most ironic present my brother could give me? A Melamine Bunnykins set. MELAMINE people. Not MY BOWL. Some cheap-ass replica of my bowl. Harumph!


Now to the olds...

Mother had brother go get money from the atm for her back in May. 2 weeks ago, after stretching the money as long as possible on the food purchasing, she ran out. And ran out of food. No.food. Oh, well, except for 3 tiny tins of peas, half a cup of sugar, a dash of milk, a teaspoon of jam and a small wadge of cheese. What did she do? She had COFFEE WITH LOTS OF SUGAR IN IT when she felt hungry. Fuck knows what my father ate; probably nothing going by how much weight he has lost.

Mother has still not seen a doctor about her fall, despite this now being over 12 months ago. Still uses the walking frame, still cant get into her own bed, still in pain. More importantly, still cant wear her support stockings for her severe varicose veins and thrombosis, so her legs and feet are now massively swollen to the point where her skin is cracking. My fear is that she will end up with a clot in her heart or brain and that'll be that.

Monkey Boy asked if I said anything to her about this, but what's the point? Really? Nothing will happen except more banshee screaming, and who needs that?

If I think about it too long I will get very angry at the system that allows this to happen. My hands are tied, and the doctors will not get involved unless either my mother or father asks for help, despite the fact that they are both manifestly mentally incompetant to do so.

OH! AND! The local gp they saw to get a referral to the Geriatician? The one who never saw my mother as a patient? Continues to write scripts for her blood pressure medication and faxes them to the chemist despite NEVER having taken my mother's blood pressure.

How is this "doing no harm"?