Gosh, where to start?
WEDNESDAY: Co-worker skipped town. He stole a car, $5,000 of stuff from Rent-a-Center, lots of stuff from the store, and left no one to take care of the store. The boss is on Vacation, the Manager is moving and isn't supposed to work, and I'm supposed to be in Colorado. Good thing I'm not. Jerk.
THUSDAY: At 10:30pm Drek gets a call from his cousin saying that Grandma took a turn for the worst and she is going up to visit Grandma in the hospital, and do we want to come? Drek says later. At 11:00pm he tells me and I am confused. Grandma is in the hospital for tests, she is just fine. How did she take a turn for the worst? What does that even mean? We are visiting the hospital at 11:00 at night? Don't visiting hours end at, like, 7:00?
I call the cousin back to ask the room number and to see if the hospital let her in. She says she is the waiting room of the ICU and "we" are just waiting. I ask who "we" is. Apparently, "we" is everyone. All aunts, uncles, cousins, siblings, and such. In the waiting room of the ICU. At 11:00 at night. I hang up and tell Drek I think something very serious is going on. We talk about it, and decide that if it were serious, his parents would have called and told us to come to the hospital, not a cousin calling and inviting us.
We get to the hospital. We walk in. It becomes very apparent we were wrong. People are crying, people are calling Grandma's siblings and telling them she won't make it through the night. People are going two by two in to visit Grandma to say good-bye.
Drek and I go in and say good-bye. Grandma passed away on Saturday. It worked out nicely, everyone was here for the family reunion, so everyone got to see her before she died, and everyone already took time off work, so everyone can go to the funeral on Thursday. I worked it out so I work Monday and Tuesday, and Cherie works Wednesday and Thursday so I can go to Wyoming with the family for the funeral.
SATURDAY: On KSL I found a story about a little girl raising money to give her cat a surgery. The cat, Patches, had an accident as a kitten that resulted in her dragging her back leg around. Somewhere the girl was told that Patches would have a more normal life if that leg was amputated, but the surgery would cost $700, for all the best medications, the best antibiotics and so forth (please note that this is not a life saving surgery, but a life improving surgery). I talked to Drek about this, and he organized a way for people to donate money to ucpets.com, and the money would go to Patches. In two days, lots of people donated anywhere from $5-$75, and we had all $700!!! We then took the money over to a bank where a fund was supposed to have been set up. Two days later, it was and we deposited the money. In that time, KSL reported that 3 individuals volunteered to pay all of it themselves, and countless people had sent checks via snail mail, not to mention dozens of people stopping by to give the girl money, and donating to the fund once it was FINALLY open. So Patches had about six times what he needed. Great right? No. KSL reported that Patches underwent the surgery, and died. Yes, died. I can't tell you how upset this made me, so I can't even imagine how upset that poor girl is.
The whole time all this was going on, I was miserable. I was dieting, and I didn't realize how witchy that made me, until Drek and I got into our seventh fight in two days, and we never fight. I went off of my low-calorie diet on Sunday, as it wasn't doing ANYTHING and I was so cranky. Drek was about to kick me out of the house. I am no longer allowed to diet to the point where I snap at everything that moves.
Everything is looking a little brighter now. Thank goodness the meltdown is over.