This post might make me sound like spoiled brat, petty, ungrateful little pain in the butt, but I have to make it anyway. I never wanted to hate my parents, and I really never have...until now. It's not like I hate them and want them to die, never. I just want them to do SOMETHING to take care of themselves so they can live better lives, and so I'm not so tied down to them. I know, that sounds so terribly selfish, but they're sucking me dry. My mom has liver failure and needs help with certain things, but she's let herself go with others, and she's to the point where she sits in her chair all day and is barely mobile anymore. That frustrates me because she was in a nursing home for like 3 months last year and had regained a lot of her mobility and strength, and now BOOM! Gone again. I can only force her to do so much, and believe me, it's not much. Then there's my dad. He can take care of himself to a point. He gets up and around, can make his own meals, walk, drive, etc, but he's diabetic and doesn't check his damn blood sugar. He also doesn't know when he's low. Just now he came back in from taking the dog outside and told us that he'd been laying in the alley for 15 minutes because he'd fallen. Right away I knew, so I checked his blood sugar...33. We've become quite familiar with the paramedics too, because I've had to call them several times because the nitwit gets low and goes unconscious and has seizures and whatnot. He doesn't have a prescription for glucagon so I have to give him mine. I can only get it refilled once every 15 days, so guess what happens when he gets low more often? I don't want to feel this way about my parents, but I can't do this. What's so damn hard about checking your blood sugar? Evidently my dad has ALWAYS done this, and I just don't get it. My sister is afraid to leave her kids with him alone because he gets low when he's watching them. My 4 year old niece has seen him go low twice now, and this last time (which was just last week actually) she got on the phone and called my sister and said "Papa Bob is asleep and isn't waking up" and she tried to make him juice and made a huge mess (which was so cute and sweet of her, but the fact that she knows what to do when her dumbass grandfather "is asleep and won't wake up" is so sad to me) and they had to call the ambulance. When the paramedics were taking my dad's information my sister was giving them his address she started and then they finished it for her, and then said yeah, we've had experience with him. How sad is that?
Sorry, this is a bit of a messed up, rambling post but I'm a messed up, rambling person. Before I go to bed I'll get to dump my mom's commode out, and I'll gag to the point of vomiting. This is my life, but I should be happy that my parents are alive, right? I am, I really am. My brother-in-law's mother died last October, and I feel horrible about it, and even more so when I feel this way about my own parents, but like I said, they're just draining me. I barely have the energy to take care of myself, and now I have to look after two other people who aren't exactly walks in the park. What is wrong with me???