As a single mother, I tend to ignore my own life in order to deal with the constant drama of raising two rather unusual teenagers. I'd been sick for a couple of weeks with some kind of low grade but effective infection which made my muscles and joints ache like hell, gave me a whopping headache I couldn't quite quell, a cough that made my lungs bring up stuff I just don't want to remember (shudder), and a complete lack of sleep due to all those delightful symptoms. In other words, I was an aching mommy with a couple of "take advantage of the situation" kids, and it sucked.
After the second week of illness, I finally bucked up and called the doctor who told me to get my ass to the hospital toot sweet, and I sounded like death warmed over. Both of my kids were sick too, and only one had returned to school on Tuesday when I headed over to the ER. So I took my son, the big galoot, with me as he's always good for entertainment if nothing else. We arrived at the hospital and I gave my car to the valet parking guy thinking I would be going home that evening. This is due to my complete stupidity over grave situations regarding my health. I admit it, I'm a moron when it comes to caring for me.
Once we entered the ER things moved amazingly fast. My cardiologist had called ahead to expect me and these ER peeps were on top of things. Oh boy, a mommy that does not think about her health care until she's in congestive heart failure. What are the chances? In the back and ensconced into a curtain area with NO TV (which proved important later on) I was put on O2, given a chest Xray still in my gurney (which was a first), and then the doctors started to convene. First one, than the other, than in a small group, and finally in a big group they came to see me and talk about my symptoms and what they saw on the X-ray. Which was a nasty bit of my heart that had died. Oh nice, let's hold a funeral for it. Now they had theories out the wazoo, but I wasn't particularly comfy about my son hearing them, so I arranged for him to be picked up by a friend's dad, as it looked like I would be admitted.
These emergency situations wreak havok on my life because I never can find coverage for my daughter. She's much harder to deal with because most of her friends parents can't be trusted do to substance problems that I won't allow her to be exposed to. I know, but it's just a fact. She's not staying over some alcoholic's house. Period.
From noon to 8 pm I waited for a room, and finally was taken up there where I could actually wheel and deal on the phone in relative comfort. I made a plan where my daughter would stay alone (she's 16) but several friends would stop by and call and check in on her. She was OK about it until she 'got a weird phone call' that freaked her out and decided, on her own without checking with me, to call her boyfriend's parents and ask them to pick her up and let her stay over there.
I have no clue she's made this little plan and I try to call her and she's not home and I have no idea where she is. I had to call all of the people I had arranged to check on her, hoping that someone might have taken her out to dinner or something, but nope. Nobody knew where she was. So of course I called the boyfriend's house and sure enough, there she was. After talking to Boyfriend's mom for a while, I said it would be OK for her to stay over on the 2nd floor while Boyfriend would be sleeping in the basement. Heh. I'm not a complete fool. Nor are the parents, who are currently caring for their 17 YO daughter's month old baby. Um, yeah.
The next night, we once again had to organize coverage. I asked both kids to stay home as I know they will snitch on each other with wild abandon, so whatever stupid thing they do, I'm gonna find out about it and react accordingly. Sure enough, daughter had her boyfriend over for a bit, and when he left she had the friend I DO NOT allow in my house sleep over. Just ask me how pissed I was when I found this out. Of course Friend's drunken parents never missed her (shocking!). Who the hell lets their kids sleep over a friend's house on a week night unless it's a family emergency? Drunk parents, that's who.
Of course my son the snitch told on her right away. I mean, how stupid is she that she believes he's not going to tell her secrets? He ALWAYS tells. And so does she. They revel in tattling on each other. They live for it. And I take advantage of it.
I'm home now, she's grounded, and he's sleeping over his friend's house tonight. We're back to 'normal' and I'm feeling way better. But geesh, why do kids try to get away with stuff like this? Do they ever learn?