Desideratum*

This is the actual text of what passes for an actual conversation between me and TOG, which I have meticulously not edited for spelling or punctuation.

TOG: Just though id prep you so it wouldnt be a surprise – bloody urine at 7:00 cath. Im going go through two or more cycles before calling urgent care. Might just be a onetime thing   We shall see.   Oh yea. Good morning

Backstory:

Three days earlier, having recently switched to a new blood pressure med that should also control atrial fibrillation, I experienced a-fib after dinner, following modest cardiac exercise working in the back yard garden. With my old meds, I’d take an extra pill and go to bed and it would stop. It didn’t stop when I went to bed, instead waking me up at 3:00 AM with a pulse of 145 and slightly elevated blood pressure.  I drove myself to the ER where I spent the next 12 hours having pointless tests done while the new med was delivered via IV and slowly and eventually brought the a-fib under control. I returned home at 3:00 PM the following day, exhausted from: 1) not eating; 2) not sleeping; 3) having a racing heartbeat for hours that leaves me feeling like I’ve run a very long and strenuous race; and 4) trying to understand what the hell people were saying because I'd forgotten to put in my hearing aid.  And I didn’t call for help or whine to TOG because he has the compassion of a tree stump and about the same capacity to help in an emergency. I took care of it. So, just so you know, that was a life-threatening emergency. Bloody urine is not.

WISIMH:  Blood in your urine is a symptom of a scratch in your plumbing made by the catheter, and it will clear out on its own. Or, as we learned the last time you made a BFD out of it, you can go to urgent care and get them to flush you out. Oh, and I am not your mommy. But I pick my battles these days, and by pick my battles, I mean more of a wu wei kinda thing because the rest of my life is not time enough to teach this guy about boundaries.

Me:  Ok, give me the time of upcoming caths so I’ll be prepared to hear from you,

WISIMH:  And so I won’t plan to actually do any of the chores I might have scheduled or the errands I just might have planned to run while I wait at your convenience, because apparently you can’t dial 911 or have the residential bus take you to urgent care. Or, heaven forbid, be a responsible adult.

TOG: Next is 1 then 7. That’s the sked but my anticipation might move them up a bbit. I wAnt to take into consideration how i feel and react to meals. BTW the Boost is great, Thnx

Me:  Please keep in touch. Don’t want to bug you about other symptoms but let me know what’s going on. Trust your instincts.

TOG: I’m going to edit out the first part of the reply because the details of the color of the water in the toilet and comparisons with past experiences would provide more information than necessary, And plus, details would probably disgust anyone with greater sensibility than a coyote eating road kill, or a weaker stomach than another coyote eating the first coyote who was run over while eating road kill. Which is ironic because the text ended:  … but then im overly sensitive. Maybe its just my time of month

Me:  Don’t trust your instincts.

So, I could get angry here because the difference between TOG’s condition and his reaction and my recent condition and my behavior underline the underlying problem that made me put TOG into an assisted care living situation in the first place. Not to mention that his “completely oblivious” assumption that I’d put aside whatever life I might happen to have to wait around for him to decide whether to co-opt my day taking care of things he should be perfectly able to take care of himself is so typical that it’s not even worth me mentioning some alternative actions he might take; and because they would merely be variations on the theme of “go fuck yourself”. And plus, it’s hardly oblivious. It’s coldly calculated manipulation for sympathy and compassion that has instead has worn my last nerve down to numb disregard of his childless narcissism. In other words, I give zero fucks about it.

Remember how TOG said next cath was 1 pm but might be sooner? Yeah, that.

1:19 PM

Me:  So how did the 1:00 PM cath go?

TOG: In progress. Was napping. DYS cominbg to visit   Let you kniw abt cath in few min.

WISIMH:  Couple of things wrong with this. First, napping?  Must be a pretty desperate situation. I too tend to nap when I’m anxious and might have a life-threatening medical emergency that would require a loved one to drive across town at a moment’s notice and take me to urgent care. Second, your sister is visiting?  Seriously?  And she couldn’t be expected to drive you to urgent care should the need actually arise and it turns out you’re not just messing with me after all?

TOG:  Wow  While I watch carefully nothing during catheterization while urine was flowing    fine then I took the Kath out And a clupke clots came…. (let’s just stop here shall we? I think you can get the color of this conversation and imagine the rest of the detail, and if you can’t then god bless you).

Me:  Sounds like good news. Or at least no ER trip for now. Keep me updated. I won’t have my wine cooler until you tell me I won’t have to drive you the ER.

WISIMH:  Just my little way of letting you know I actually DO have a frickin’ life you selfish man child. I used to make excuses for this kind of thoughtless behavior until it was pointed out to me that it’s anything but thoughtless. It’s intentionally designed to control me and to either piss me off in which case TOG is shocked at my angry reaction that came out of nowhere in his hour of need. Or, I can chose to simply concede and in refusing to call him on his selfish and needy assumptions thereby perpetuate this crap. Heads: he wins; tails: I lose. At least this way, I have something to complain/blog about.

TOGL  Ok. I agree it was odd the wY it worked,. I had never noticed WHEN the blood got into the toilet… clots… dark…thick black… (other disgusting detail that why the hell would anybody really want to know let alone bother to detail in texts) … Drink your heart out   Wrse comes to worse I can wait til tomorrow   I know what its like to go without wine?!!!!!

WISIMH:  I once told TOG that apropos of blood, any female past menarche has had considerable experience with seeing blood in the toilet, and doesn't need to have a Tristram Shandy detailed account of details to get it; but then we got into a bloody pissing contest that finally ended when I admitted that external genitalia are clearly superior to internal genitalia in every particular. In his final text, notice that although he doesn’t have his period after all, he is suffering because he’s pretty much had to give up wine, poor baby, so I should still pat his little head and tell him he’s a good little man. And also notice that while I have been released from being on-call today, I am still on call for tomorrow. Which, as Miss Scarlet once said, is another day. Oh, and good morning to you too.

* Desideratum: something that is wanted.   My desideratum: leave me alone, you callow, puerile, self-absorbed halfwit.

If anybody has any suggestions about what would be a better way for me to interact with TOG, I am always open to any advice that doesn't involve felony mayhem.