Today’s writing prompt could not have come at a better time. I am busy dealing with a mentally ill friend who is uncompromising in her belief that we are all against her.
That life has been set up to cheat her.
And that she gets to decide when others have “enough”, so they should be willing to bail her out of whatever disaster she is dealing with. Again.
Tonight, I was having a relatively good phone call, where she asked how the 15 year old cocker spaniel was doung, and I responded, “Fine.” She’s not enjoying the rcommended eye treatment for the infections to her blind puppy eyes, but she’s sleeping well, pooping and peeing as normal, and dealing with the realities of being a 15 year old dog as well as can be expected.
We ended the call, and then the voicemails started. “I’d like you to give the dog a break, she’s depressed, so take her out for an ice cream and find her some kids to play with.”
”I want her to have a second opinion from Dr. Burr…” (with an extoling of that doctor’s qualifications, even though I’d told this friend a week ago that there was no budget for a second opinion, reminded her that the dog was 15 (at the far end of the normal lifespan for the breed), and that there was no more money to be spent on this dog beyond the current treatment plan). I started a course of treatment, and would see it through with the next vet visit on the 16th.
Relentless and uncompromising, this friend left me and other friends teary voicemails this evening about running away from her care home, and demanding that I bring her depressed dog to see her, and just generally throwing a temper tantrum via the phone. Completely uncompromising.
No thought or consideration was given to the fact that the friend is now living 2-3 hours drive away, plus the fact that she had been told that the dog was not coming for a visit until sometime in April, soonest, after its immunization shots were up to date and its medical care completed.
She wants what she wants when she wants it. Truly, a sense of perspective is a terrible thing to lose.
So, it was my turn to be uncompromising. If she doesn’t like the care her elderly dog is getting, and she can find someone else to take over it’s care, I’m happy to have the dog picked up.
However, she can’t have the dog where she is (and she can’t care for herself physically, emotionally, medically or financially, never mind injecting a blind dog who needs constant supervision and medical care into the situation), and I’m not taking a 5-6 hour roud trip just to get her to stop blowing up my phone with her demands. Especially since the scene she will throw when it’s time for me to return home would be yet another hysterical meltdown.
The dog is fine (or, as good as can be expected at 15 years old), so now I’m being uncompromising. I just wish I didn’t feel like such a hard hearted Hannah, doing what’s best for everyone in this sad eldercare situation.