I'm back from my trip to Atlanta, which was really great, but do you ever feel like it's not worth leaving because so much shit happens when you leave and the aftermath is too much?
Here is the story:
I am on the road to Atlanta when I get a call that mother's defibrillator/pacemaker combo started vibrating in her chest. After many calls between her, my husband, and the doctor's office, it was determined that her battery needs to be replaced and that will be dealt with this week.
I am at the Yellow Daisy Festival and my phone rings and it's my son who proceeds to tell me that my mother's cat has bitter her and she can't get the bleeding under control. Now my husband is out of town also so that leaves my 22 yr old to deal. After giving him instructions on what to do and where to go, I speak to mom and let her know that help is on the way.
I hang up the phone then and cry my eyes out in the middle of an arts and crafts fair.
So I managed this situation for the rest of the time there and when I got home I was immediately on daily wound care and scheduling her battery replacement.
I did however, after cleaning the hole in my mother's wrist, run into GW for junk therapy and found these:
Black and Gold beauties!
I feel better because that combo is just good