Friday, October 11, 2013
This turned out to be a day I will not soon forgot.
Another story about my crazy father, who drives me crazy.
I was suppose to go to my older sister’s house today (P.A. Day) because she wanted me to bring the kids to go to High Park and do some scavenger hunt/take photos or something like that. This was despite my telling her that I was not feeling so hot and not to forget that I just had radiation and was in the midst of chemo treatment and might not be up to it. She told me I could sit in the car if I wasn’t feeling well. I told her that sounded like a lot of fun for me. My morning went something like this….
My lunatic father arrived at my house at 7:15 in the morning to paint the side of my house. Why? Let me try to explain.
On Wednesday he showed up at my house when the gasman came to service my furnace, and to hook up our dryer/ stove. My father is RELENTLESS when someone comes to service anything at anyone’s home. He follows them around to make sure they are not being lazy, lest he has to pay them more. He used to work for Consumers Gas and thinks he knows everything about gas.
I swear he almost blew my house up when I first bought my house (another story that’s probably in one of my previous posts…if not remind me and I will tell you about that memorable experience). Anyhow, back to the story. He was following the service guy like a puppy until I finally had to tell him about 5 times to leave the poor guy alone. I was sure the guy was going to quit and I would not have a damn stove to cook my turkey dinner on for Thanksgiving week-end. I told my dad to leave him alone. When that didn’t seem to make a difference, I gave my dad a job to do. “Here”, I told him, “Go paint the side of the house.” That seemed to stall him for a while. He went outside, momentarily. I was hopeful my tactic worked…that he would be too preoccupied to drive the gasman crazy. Then my dad came back in. He decided he that the wall needed some cement to fill in the cracks before it was to be painted, so he wasn’t going to do it today….he’d come back another time. So much for that.
He started following the serviceman again, literally peering right over his shoulder. “Dad”, I said, “What the heck are you doing? Leave the poor guy alone” I kept repeating over and over again. Why the concern?
You see, in the past, we have hired people to service his house and they usually run away screaming for their lives. Last year when I commissioned my gasman to fix his furnace, the guy left. When I phoned him to ask him what happened, he told me my dad was crazy and to never phone him again. My dad told me he was a crook, he wanted money and he never did anything. My dad does not seem to understand the concept that you have to pay people around $150 to enter your house and diagnose what the problem is. Then if they need to install parts/or fix whatever the problem is, that there is additional labour charges on top of that. Well, my father was not having any of that and kicked the guy out of his house. So nothing was fixed. And the scary thing is, he has done this countless times before.
I was going to kill him if my stove wasn’t hooked up before Thanksgiving because of him.
I think my dad eventually got the hint, ‘cause he eventually hauled the stove outside on top of his truck (with the aid of the gasman) and left. I swear there was a big sigh of relief from me when my dad left and the gasman was still here.
I am told my dad delivered it to my uncle’s house. I’m not sure why, since I had intended that he remove his old identical stove and replace it with mine since my burners still light when you turn it on. My mother has to light hers with a match….every time. Don’t ask me. I don’t understand it myself. My parents could have had a stove that worked properly, but noooooo!
Back to the drama which was about to unfold.
I get up and start making breakfast. I hear this weird sound coming from outside the kitchen window. I have no idea what my crazy father is doing and decided not to investigate. I figured if I didn’t know, I wouldn’t loose my mind. I called my dad to come in to have breakfast. He sits down and is tearing up. “What’s wrong?”, I asked him. “I got something in my eyes”, he responded. “How did you do that?” I asked. “I was sanding down the wall and I didn’t have my safety goggles on”.
And the day went quickly downhill from there!
I was already feeling crappy that day, but this situation made me feel a whole lot worse. I was terrified my father did something terrible to his eyes. My heart did not feel okay so I went to get my heart monitor. I hooked it up. My blood pressure was 45. Usually at 60, I’m on the ground. But I think my adrenaline was kicking in and it began to get my heart pumping more quickly. I telephoned Telehealth.
So as I’m talking to some nurse on the phone, my sister is phoning me asking me when I was going to come over with the kids, and my dad is outside screaming there is stuff in his eyes and to hurry up and go to Shopper’s Drug Mart and get some eye wash for him. I think I kind of lost it at that point. My sister got an earful from me…I’m not sure what I said exactly but it was something about my f*$!# family driving me nuts and why can’t everyone just leave me alone?
At this point I was in a panic and didn’t know what to do. Telehealth asked me if there was anyone there that could drive me to the hospital. “Yeah”, I thought, “Sure there is, but he is blind”. I lied and told her I was on my way to the General Hospital. Then I phoned my optometrist and asked them if I could bring my father in right away. They said, “Yes” and I screamed at everyone to “Get in the Car”. Off we went.
When I got there, I was so relieved. At least my dad would get taken care of. I was holding myself on the counter. I almost told the secretary that if I dropped, just call an ambulance. I sat down with the kids who were prepared with their ipad/pod to play while they waited. “Give me that Ipad” I told Katrina. “Why?”, she asked. “If I play one of those games you have, that will distract me from thinking about Nonno’s eyes”, I told her. She gave me the Ipad grudgingly. My dad went in. The doctor came out and told me that he would be alright, but it would take a bit of time to heal.
My dad told him he was alright after the doctor put drops into his eyes and washed it out about 4 times. He lied.
My eye doctor gave me his cell number and told me that if he wasn’t better tomorrow, to phone him. One of his associates was working that Saturday and could examine his eyes again if they continued to bother him. Feeling relieved, we left. I drove my dad home and told him my husband and I would drive his truck home later from my house.
The next day, Saturday, my dad phoned. I asked him how his eyes were, and he lied to me. Told me they were okay. But they weren’t. I didn’t find that out until around 4:00 when my younger sister phoned me and told me that our dad was at home with one of his eyes swollen shut. He was suppose to be at my younger sister’s house for her son’s a birthday party. Only my mom and older sister arrived.
I phoned my eye doctor who told me to get my dad into the hospital. It should not have been swollen. He may be having an allergic reaction to the polysporin eye ointment. We would have to probably wait a couple of hours in emergency, but someone would have to see him.
Off my family went to pick up my dad who was waiting at the door. I’m sure his eye must have been really hurting him a lot for him to jump into my car to take him to the hospital. We went to his local hospital.
After about 2 1/2 hours in emergency, I decided to drive my kids to Vaughn for my nephew’s birthday party, eat, and grab some food for my husband and father to take back to the hospital. By the time I got back to the hospital, they had already left, so I went to wait for them at Nonno’s house. They arrived 5 minutes later, ate, and then we left. My dad had another appt. with another eye doctor the next day.