It's all fine

 

Lots of doctor’s appointments lately. Getting old is a scam.

I finally gave in and did the nerve conduction test on my hands after my fingers decided numbness was their new personality. The test hurt way more than I expected (love that for me), but at least it was quick. Results showed most things were normal except for moderate carpal tunnel. So, you know, not totally normal.

A little consultation with Dr. Google and AI says my habit of sleeping with my wrists curled inward, which is apparently a hypermobile people thing, is likely the culprit. I have an appointment tomorrow and fully expect to be sentenced to nighttime wrist splints. Not sure how that’s going to work since I rely on my Apple Watch vibrating to wake me up. Guess I’ll either adapt or just never wake up again.

I also had my 3-month check-in with my PCP. My weight with shoes, in the afternoon was 89 lbs. He didn’t say anything, but I brought up that my rheumatologist suggested switching my antidepressant to something that might help with appetite. PCP was hesitant because Wellbutrin has that bonus off-label ADD benefit, and apparently, we don’t want to mess with that. He also thinks my ADD meds are probably more to blame for the weight, but since those are actually working, we’re not touching them. Fair.

So, the compromise is: try the new antidepressant for a couple of weeks, and if my ability to focus tanks, go back to Wellbutrin and just add the new one. So far, the only noticeable side effect is that I slept until 9:30 both days this weekend and then struggled to wake up for work like a normal functioning adult. So that’s going great.  Meanwhile, no change in appetite.

On a completely different note, I got tired of not having clothes that fit and went on a bit of a shopping spree. I tried thrift stores but didn’t have much luck. There’s this warehouse here that sells insurance buyouts/returns/liquidation-type stuff, and it’s basically chaos.  You have to dig through racks and make sure nothing is damaged, but you can find really good stuff if you’re willing to put in the effort. I found some great work clothes.  Also picked up a few pairs of jeans from Old Navy and the Gap kids section, and that should hold me over. I should probably go through the garage and take stuff to my friend’s thrift store or try consignment, but that sounds like effort, so we’ll see.  I also bit the bullet and went to Dillard’s for undergarments that actually fit. Shockingly, they had a limited selection but somehow exactly what I needed, and it wasn’t outrageously priced. Now that I know my size, I can hunt for sales like a normal person.  I am actually wearing clothes that fit for a change.

And now… the in-law drama.

It’s spring in the Midwest, which means storms. We had a couple roll through nearby, and Dennis’s sister texted him to check on their mom. Why she didn’t just… do that herself remains a mystery. He said his sister has always been overly freaked out about storms, so historically he’s been the one dropping everything to go check or call.

At one point sister asked him to call her, and he immediately said he had a bad feeling about it. (Correct.) He called anyway.  She answers and asks if he knows there’s a termite swarm at their mom’s house and what he is going to do about it. That was apparently the breaking point.  He reminded her that termites have been an issue since before their dad passed, and he had already tried to get it addressed back then. He also pointed out that he’s been the one consistently helping with the house and asked what she was going to do for a change.

Cue the floodgates.

What followed was apparently a full airing of grievances: her inserting herself into issues with their brother, not helping with the house, and a past storm situation where she and her husband pulled into the driveway, decided everything looked fine from the front, and left… despite the fact that the backyard was a disaster and Dennis was literally back there cleaning up fallen trees. They didn’t even get out of the car.

Then the money issue came up. Their mom had sent cash to the brother’s daughter, and sister was upset about it and tried to rope Dennis in except she didn’t realize he already knew their mom had been giving money to her kids too. Funny how that works. She tried to deny it, and he came prepared with metaphorical receipts.

The whole thing ended with her saying she was sorry that she and her kids were such a disappointment, which… okay. And he hung up.

Dennis thinks the sudden concern about the house is less about termites and more about her realizing that if something happens to their mom, the house might be worth less. Honestly… he’s probably not wrong.

Also, unrelated but somehow still related to the overall theme of decision-making: he was at their mom’s house a couple of weeks ago when the sister showed up and noticed the tires on the sister’s car are basically bald. Like, I don’t know how she has traction on dry pavement levels of bald. She drives her 2-year-old granddaughter around in that car. One tire is brand new (so clearly something happened there), and the other three are hanging on by thoughts and prayers.  Which is extra funny because when I bought my brand new Escape several years ago, her husband made some backhanded comment about it being “nice for a Ford.” Meanwhile, they’re driving a used Lexus that they bought with 100k miles.  They also have a massive house in a ritzy neighborhood and just put in a pool, but sure—let’s cut corners on the thing that keeps your car on the road. Solid priorities.

Anyway. I am just very glad I am no longer required to play nice.  I haven’t talked to anyone other than mother-in-law for over a year and I can’t say I miss any of it. 

And because apparently we didn't have enough going on, we have semi-adopted a cat.

Dennis found her at the car wash a few months ago and immediately started feeding her, because of course he did. I have been in full denial mode hoping someone else would step up and take her, but here we are. We finally got her into the street cats program, got her tame enough to survive a crate, and got her spayed. She was pregnant at the time, but they handled it. So that's one crisis averted. 

If Dennis had his way she'd already be living her best life on my couch, but we're at capacity, and with BD having FIV, adding another cat isn't actually an option. So instead, he drives up and feeds her twice a day like a man with a perfectly normal relationship with a stray cat. I go up when I have leftovers, purely out of practicality, and I am absolutely not getting attached. 

She is gorgeous, for the record. And she's calming down. She even let me hold her for a few minutes recently. But she is Dennis's cat in every meaningful sense. The second she hears his car she sprints to meet him. When I show up alone I have to coax her out of the creek like I'm negotiating with a small feral diplomat. 

Yesterday he floated the idea of relocating her to my house as an outdoor cat. I shut that down immediately. That is exactly how it started with BD, and I think we've all seen how that played out. I told him if we add another animal it's going to be a dog, which I also don't want right now. Hurricane season is coming and I really don't need one more thing to stress about if I deploy. 

She's fine where she is. I'm fine. Everything is fine.