This.Is.Fine.

I've said raising parents is not for the weak.  Anyone who is caring for/helping with their elderly parents all agree: it's exhausting.  It never ends.  It's frustrating.

The latest on the parents is that Kevin's dad had to have a pacemaker installed.  This isn't a big deal on the grand scheme of things but nothing ever passes without some sort of drama.

I will begin at the beginning:

We haven't done family dinner for over a month because Kevin's mom tried to die on us again. We've finally gotten to the point where we aren't going every Friday anymore, thank you tiny, sweet, little 8lb 2 oz baby jesus.

Then we went about a month ago.  The parents chose Olive Garden. Fine.  We all get seated and Kevin's dad announces "So, I went to the doctor today."  (Pause: the sons talk to them every.single.day.during.the.day so this announcement is already melodramatic.  Play.)

Everyone stiffens because of course.  And it would TOTALLY be like them to announce a bad diagnosis in the middle of a restaurant.  Bread sticks?  Sure, why not an appetizer too?

He needed a pacemaker.  I nudge Kevin and whisper "Not a big deal."

He continues:  "Yeah, the doctor was so surprised that I walked in there. She said "I don't know how you're standing here." It's so bad.  I watched on the heart monitor and it was like a straight line (flat line) for this long."   (Measure out your hands a generous 12 inches.) "It goes a long time without beating. They just don't know how I haven't died yet."    Do you need more salad? cheese?

It's taking everything in me not to do the high school bullsh*t cough.

He continues on for about a minute when Kevin gathers his wits about him and asks "When are they doing the surgery?"   WAIT FOR IT...

"Oh, in a month."

SO, pushing up my sleeves, you're saying that: you're flatlining for minutes. The doctor thinks you're the walking dead but we're waiting for a month to intervene?  Okay. Sure. Totally plausible.
Oh, good, our food is here because I'm about to slug an old man.

Now, fast forward to Friday.  They said the surgery was at 8:00 a.m.  We were dumb enough to believe them.  No, check in is at 8. The surgery is at 10, barring any delays. Kevin went to work and I got to take Lucy to the vet because she needed her bum taken care of. (so gross)  I got there just before 10 and Kevin is already frustrated.  A new record.

I walk in with him and they're all crammed into this curtained space because it's necessary to have six of us standing there. I looked at Kevin's mom and ask "Where is your oxygen?"   "Oh, I left it at home. It's fine."   It's totally NOT FINE.

She was in the same exact hospital for a week six weeks ago with pneumonia/pertusis, kidney failure, and the beginning of sepsis.  You're right, you totally don't need life support.  Silly me.
Also at this point I want to smack the father-in-law and the sister-in-law who drove them to the hospital for not bringing it. This should be a habit by now. Oh, I forgot: the mother-in-law is in a wheelchair because she can't walk more than a few paces.  But the oxygen? totally don't need it.

They do all the things and the surgeon explains what is happening.  We learn that his heart would indeed stop but for 3 seconds, not the minutes that he reported.  Go figure.  They take him and ask us to wait, it would be a little over an hour.

We go to the waiting room and sit.  Actually, I stayed in the hallway because it's a tiny waiting room and I'm still feeling stabby and punchy.   I checked into work and did some work via my phone until Kevin asked me to come sit down. "Don't make it weird." Oh, buddy, that ship has already sailed.

Awkward silences for a while because his brother hates it when Kevin and I talk to each other.  He feels excluded and ow, my eyes hurt from the eyerolling.  Finally he tries to talk and Kevin uncharacteristically is monosyllabic.  He stops.  Few minutes later he starts squirming around, clearly "trying to get comfortable". (he's over six foot and over 300 lbs, btw)  Finally, he gets the result he was hoping for:  "What's wrong?" his mom asks. The mom in the wheelchair whose husband is having surgery. "He has a headache" the sister-in-law deadpan states, without looking up from her tablet.  He sighs.  Even she is over it at this point.  Silence continues.

Finally, the surgeon comes out and gives us the update. It's all good.  They're eventually taking him upstairs but there isn't a room available yet.  He suggest we say hi then go get lunch.
(doctor speak for "There are too many of you.")  He leaves and everyone just sits there.  Ummm, okay...

Kevin stands up, a little annoyed. "I'll take mom back then."  He wheels her out and I follow him to open the door.  Usually I stay back to give them some space but because the brother has suddenly fallen mute and immobile, I went with Kevin.  We chat for a minute then leave to get lunch.

They are still sitting in the waiting room.  Kevin pauses and says "We're going to got get lunch."  Still, they're immobile.  Kevin just starts walking away.  I love this version of Kevin.

While we're walking there, I suggested that he just park his mom at the table and we will get whatever she needs.  Noooo....because she has to SEE WHAT'S AVAILABLE. In the cafeteria she has been to hundreds of times.  In.the.cafeteria.  Kevin is starting to spin out.  His brother and s-i-l continue to lollygag behind us.  Then they are in front of us, because reasons.

(And as I write this, I realize that they never went to say hi to the dad.)

Finally, I flipped into combat mode. I grabbed what I needed, got Kevin's wallet, paid for my food, and grabbed a table. It was lunchtime so it was busy. By the time I returned, he had awkwardly parked his mom in the way of everyone.

"What does she want?"  "She doesn't know."  He asks her again for the billionth time.  An egg salad sandwich.  I filled out the card because there wasn't one premade and hand it to Kevin.
"I'm taking your mom" and walked away.

I parked her at the table, got utensils and napkins then returned to Kevin.  He is in full-scale about to lose his sh*t mode.  Brother and s-i-l have already ordered and are wandering around looking at stuff.  WTAF.  I took Kevin's wallet again and asked/told him to go sit with his mother.
"I.NEED.A.BREAK.THIS.IS.FINE." he says.  Okay, then.

Her order is ready and now we're waiting for his.  Meanwhile, the brother has gotten his order and is sitting at the table with his mom.  Now he's "helping".  Finally, Kevin's order is up and we paid.  I set up his mom and he sat down at the table with his meal.  He is spun out and no one seems to notice except me.

Now, my book, water bottle, and meal were already at a seat, next to his mom. At the table I set up for us. They're all gathered around a four-person table and have awkwardly pulled a chair up to the corner.  *DEEP CLEANSING BREATH*

I picked up my stuff and sat at the nearby table.  Kevin, absentmindedly says "You're sitting there?"  *DEEP CLEANSING BREATH*  "Where.Do.You.See.SPACE.for.me?  It's ridiculous to cram everyone at a table when it's not necessary."  This is a conversation we have way more often than is reasonable in anyone's lifetime.

During lunch Kevin began to get texts from his guys at work.  He had already planned on returning but they hadn't planned on him being gone so long so there wasn't a contingency plan. Now it was a hurry thing. And Guess what happened?  Suddenly, his brother has to make a call to work, while sitting at the table.  It's a mystery how the same exact things happens to him. It really is.

I peacefully ate my lunch while watching The Pioneer Woman make a dessert and wondered what tempering eggs meant. I finished, cleaned up my table, cleaned up Kevin's stuff.  "Ready?" I asked and he jack-in-the-boxed up and announced he was going to work.  I'm not even certain he said goodbye.

We walked to the parking lot while he muttered.  I'm just scurrying beside him because he's an annoyed six-foot tall and I'm 5'3".  He went to work and I went home to peace and quiet. He went to work to organize ten guys and an excavation company during the busy season because that was easier and more pleasant than his entire morning.

The father-in-law is now home and on the mend.  There has already been two arguments about them accepting help with the house.  Kevin won and our niece will be cleaning their house every other week.  "Oh good, she can do the things I can't do" the mother finally says.  WHICH IS EVERYTHING AND THE WHOLE DOGGONE POINT.  And Kevin made it happen, not his brother.

I'm telling you: raising parents is not for the weak.  Not killing siblings takes superhuman powers.