Son of a bitch

I hate being an adult sometimes. I like that I can drink beer and stay out as late as I want, but I hate that I have to be aware of how much stuff sucks and that I have to be responsible to alleviate the sucking. I guess that's why I get to drink.

My Mom was supposed to have surgery to alleviate pressure on her back this Thursday. Last week, however, my brother called me to tell me that she'd gotten an infection in one of her teeth and had to have a tooth pulled. Since there's an infection in her body, her surgeon won't operate this week. Right now, it's not clear if he'll be able to operate on Monday, but if he can't she'll be waiting until March to have her surgery. Which would be fine if she weren't in much pain, but she can barely walk. Hell, she can barely sit. She called me to tell me about the postponing, and I took the news. Once I'd sent the email to my HR people to tell them that I'll be working for the rest of the week at least, I thought about how my Mom sounded. Her voice was quiet and soft, and she'd been crying. I'm going home tonight to check in with her and see how she is, even though I always feel powerless to help her.

She's only in her early fifties, and she's had two hip surgeries and now needs a back surgery. Then her tooth got fucked up and her car needs about $500 in repairs to pass inspection, which is overdue. She's not rolling in dough, so she's stressed, sick, broke, and unable to do anything. And neither am I, which drives me nuts. I wish I could fix her, or fix her car or the house, just do something. Luckily, the people I babysit for continue to be the nicest people on the face of the planet and are letting me take their car down to Rhode Island tonight so I can just see her for a while. I guess that's all I can do for now.

So, to whatever fucking karma or sprite or owner of the voodoo doll who's fucking up my Mom, knock it off. You win. Assholes.