On Wednesday night, Briana was the victim of a hit and run. Nobody stopped at all. Not the person that hit her. Not anybody that might have been around (if there was anybody). I wasn't there, so I don't know. The only thing she had told me was that she was taking her dogs to go out to the bathroom, so don't ask me what she was doing on Ryan St. However, from the two places that she said she thought she was, both of those have traffic lights, so it sounds like she was being safe and the car ran the light!
She is up in Memorial hospital and is doing okay. She has left rotator cuff injury, so her left arm gets numb on and off. She also has a lot of scrapes and bruises. Thankfully, though, she is alive. They didn't say if she had a concussion or not, but she remembers things fine. I think it is the pain medicine that makes her loopy, not the accident. I know that it makes her tired, but that's a good thing because her body needs rest.
The last she told me, she goes faster than the nurses expect her to go. She wants to be able to move again.
I told her that she is going to have to stay at our house (she can take her dogs into the front yard, but that's it) once the sun has set and she is only out either with me or at a place where I or somebody else is going to pick her up if it is dark.
I've had a person act like she knows all about my life and everything that has gone on it. She acts like she knows what it is like because she took care of her mentally ill mother. Her life is nowhere near the same as mine. She acts like it is, though. She lives in California. I live in Louisiana. Louisiana doesn't have tons of resources like other states. Either they tell you that they'll take the person away and put them in special living, or that they don't qualify for things. They don't provide exactly what is needed. Adult protective services has come to our house many times and that is because somebody keeps reporting Briana and it is none of their business. I'd love the house to be cleaner, but I don't have the money for a housekeeper and Adult Protective Services won't provide one, so how can I have one?
Most people are being very great and helpful. Thank you, it does mean a lot as this is quite stressful. It can be difficult taking care of Briana, but she is also a huge help around the house and I do miss her even if there are times that she gets annoying and irritating. At least she was still telling me things like not to spoonerize "pork stew."
If you want to know some stuff I've dealt with in my life, read on . . .
`In Kindergarten, I was extremely sick - esophagusitis.
`In third grade, I had it again with tonsilitis from staph bacteria.
`By the time I was in fifth grade, people were teasing me horribly - for no good reason, they just were. They kept this going on through middle school, some through 12th grade. Some are still mean and do it up to today.
` in sixth grade, I was diagnosed with scoliosis (which thankfully, they caught it, but now I do have a weak back and the side effects of having scoliosis and wearing a brace for THREE YEARS).
` When I was in eighth grade, Briana had surgery for her scoliosis. I ended up taking care of her and doing her therapy with her more than my parents.
` In 10th grade, I had bacterial pneumonia and I'm pretty sure my doctor was stupid, only having me stay at home for two weeks. I think I should have probably been in the hospital. I don't feel like I ever regained all of my stamina or lung function.
` In the summer of 2002 is when my Daddy had his left leg amputated under the knee because of a horribly bad infection and Charcot's foot. He blamed it all from a blood blister that he claimed he got from stepping on a toy - but I really doubt that. He never took care of his feet as well as he said he did.
` About a year later, he had to wear a boot on his right foot because of Charcot's foot. My Daddy, despite my weak back, would make me take his wheelchair in and out of the van and push him around in grocery stores and such places. He would also make me take on the trash on Thursday mornings (do everything), and not let me get it done on Wednesday nights!
` I tried to get a job at McDonald's the first time I was in college. They were not supposed to have me do janitorial work and were supposed to train me. They had me train on janitorial work the first day that I got there. The next two times, they never trained me and made me do janitorial work! By the fourth time I was supposed to be there, I was so sore and in such pain that I could barely move. My Mama had to go with me in order for me to just be able to move. They had never trained me to do anything else and instead of having me sit and learn anything, they just fired me on the spot. Then they even had the nerve to call me at 5am on day and say I needed to open the place, and then go "Oops, wrong Bridget."
` My Daddy passed away in April 2008. I was extremely depressed (when somebody close to me dies, I am usually extremely depressed for four to six months).
` My Mama was on those stupid antidepressants starting when I was in second grade. She would come out of her therapists office and just tell me that she told the therapist everything was fine rather than actually talking! The therapist at first had her on BOTH Wellbutrin and Paxil. Later, it was just a Paxil. That doctor retired and she never got a real therapist/doctor again and her GP (the family doctor, who I will NEVER go to again - honestly do NOT got to Dr. Arthur Primeaux!) would just adjust her Paxil however she wanted it to be.
` I had to deal with my Mama getting worse and worse. The neuropsychiatrist she went to lied. He kept saying that she was fine, that she had something like Asperger's that wouldn't get any worse. It was all a lie because she kept getting worse and they wouldn't wean her off of those antidepressants. She became convinced that I was trying to kick her out of the house which isn't true at all (I told her to go have fun one day so Briana and I could work on cleaning). She would keep falling and hitting her head even though we told her to fall on her butt, her arms, or her legs, because you can heal a broken limb. She would look all beat up. All I would do was help her, but I later found out that somebody reported me for elderly abuse!!! I was never told this at first! Oh, yeah, and things were bad because even earlier when she was "okay," she would drink and water would come out of her nose I told her that it wasn't normal and she REALLY needed to see a doctor about that, but she wouldn't listen to me. I couldn't force her and her GP would not listen to me at all. He flat out refused to listen to my concerns about her.
` I had to deal with stupid nurses constantly calling me about my Mama. She was insistent that she didn't want a PEG tube and while it was hard for me, I wanted to honor her wishes. I was also worried she pull out a PEG tube since she had a history of pulling out tubes. I urged her to get an NG tube like I had when I was little because of the esophagusitis, but she even refused that, no matter how much I urged her to do that.
` My Mama passed away in September 2012.
` My grandpa also passed away in September 2012 and I had NO IDEA that he did other than a Facebook friend telling me about his obituary in the newspaper! His girlfriend's caretaker was a HUGE liar and said she couldn't find our telephone numbers (the home one is easy to find online) and then she tried to make us feel guilty saying that we never came to visit him which is a bunch of bull because we would come and he would always say not to come into the house! My grandpa hid how terrible is health was from us! He kept saying it was his girlfriend who was in such bad health! Briana and I got NOTHING . . . not even the flag from his service in WWII. He basically completely disowned us. His girlfriend was rude about it, too. He signed everything (which, I guess he didn't have much, but still) over to her. She wouldn't even let Briana look for what he always called "the green can" that he would tell us to find if anything happened to him.
` I was falsely arrested AT MY OWN HOUSE for stalking somebody that I NEVER stalked. The sheriff didn't have evidence and even knew what was truly happening because the sheriff said not to call him, so the sheriff was corrupt and acting on the other person's word. They said that he is the one that signed that I was stalking him, but I never got to see the signature (of course). If I had, I would've been able to tell because we used to be friends.
` Life is better again, in general. Briana and I help each other with things. We often do chores together. We'll take turns so each of us can rest our backs. We do things how they work for us and we often wish they would work out better, too. I am doing my schooling so hopefully I can get a good job where I can afford a housekeeper - at least one that comes once a week to wash dishes, clean the bathroom, empty the trash cans (and not one like the gal that insisted she was our house keeper, kept asking Briana for more money, made my life MORE stressful by telling me that I needed to buy tons of stuff for her to make the house look how she wanted it; and I think she stole stuff, too . . . there are a few things I've never found again that seem like they should've still been here).