Dad scared us with some elderly electrolyte losses that were looking like a stroke...Older sis called me saying she was worried about dad...nevermind our youngest sister LIVES THERE with him. SO I had to dispatch 2 youngest kids to check on dad and get him back in shape. Lord knows I'm in no condition to go running across town to rescue him. Meanwhile I called the Oldest Sis who's having some minor surgery in the morning, and left a message for her...gah, I hope she doesn't stress out about him when she really needs to be taking care of herself. It turns out Dad was volunteering, as his usual Thursday fun, at the bread mission today in the heat. Then his cheapskate self refuses to turn on any ceiling fans or the window AC units so he can save electricity, so his house was NINTEY freaking degrees INSIDE when it was 83 degrees on the OUTSIDE. He claims it's comfortable. Stubborn ass mule. I call BS! He's had "three gallons" of water, and enough food, but he's old and his potassium, sodium etc were out of whack and Aunt R the nurse helped us get him squared away. She was fairly spot on that his electrolyte balance was anything but balanced. She said that too much water actually flushes out the electrolytes, and dad is just too much a cheapskate to buy gatorade. And he's drinking too much coffee.
I swear if it's not my 16 year old son stressing me out, it's my 82 year old father. Attention whores. Can't let me be the focus just a few months? Geeez.
The oven is still baking a baby, but it's baking past the due date. Shouldn't there be some kind of alarm that sounds when something overbakes? I mean when I use the oven and something's been in there too long, there is a smell of smoke, and then a noisy alarm sounds to tell me I got stupid and distracted, and I need to go take the stuff out of the oven. Baby-bakers don't come with such equipment in the womb.
Well if she's not done baking by the weekend, she's getting evicted from the oven Monday. The heat source is needed for other things too and she just can't be hogging it for herself. I finished my last round of service calls for the time being, and walked all week (yay for hips popping back into place last month!) in hopes of helping Thumper find the exit. We'll see if it helps.
God's just teaching me patience. It doesn't take rocket surgery to know that.