Sunday, 7 January 2007

Another promise broken - can you ever forgive me?

So, I said yesterday after missing a day I'd be back later to post some more. And once again, I let you down. Bad diva. Begging your apologies. That should do it.

My weekend has been anything but diva-esque. I spent the vast majority of yesterday in a car driving all over hell's half acre to get Hubs' daughter, DeeDee, to a doctor. You see, she's had this ingrown toenail (ewwwwww) thing goin on for almost six months now, and despite many phone calls from Hubs to Sludge begging her to do something about it, nothing has really been done at all. When Hubs saw poor DeeDee's mangled, black, puffy big toe, he just about died. And so he decided to do something about it, since Sludge surely wasn't going to.

But of course, we don't have DeeDee's health card. So it's pay $50 to see a doc, or go out to Sludge's 'hood (a 45 minute drive on a good day) to pick it up. We chose the latter. Happy day.

Those of you living in the GTA realize it's not all that easy to find a walk in clinic open on a Saturday, especially after 2pm. So we ended up at the place Sludge usually takes DeeDee, a clinic in a ghetto mall near their home. We show up and are told it's going to be an hour and a half wait to see the doctor. Goodie - let's kill time in this bad throwback to the 70's mall, where this diva feels shamefully ill at ease. Blech.

After killing some time in Zellers (sigh) we decide to grab a bite to eat. Since the only options are the food place in Zellers and a hamburg stand in the mall, we quickly rule out the Zellers due to the close proximity of a police officer having a quiet conversation with a crying lady who's clearly out of meds, and saddle up to the padded stools of the hamburg stand. Yippee. Is it time to go yet?

A gulped burger later we're finally being seen by the doctor who, of course, tells us we need to take her to the hospital emerg to get the nail taken care of as they can't do anything from there. An hour and a half of my life I'll never get back, but now we know.

So we shuffle off home, overjoyed by the prospect of getting up at 5:30am to get her to the emerg by 6 so we can hopefully get out of there before sundown. And then Sludge calls.

Outraged, freaking out, can't believe it, she needs to be there, etc. Tell the doctor to wait, don't go at 6am, all that fun stuff. Now, I totally understand a mother's desire to be at her child's side when they're hurting and undergoing a medical procedure. I most certainly do. But how she was planning to get from her place to the hospital near us in time for 6am boggled my mind. She wasn't taking no for an answer, despite assurances that DeeDee would be just fine 'cause Hubs was going to be right there. Even though she's had nothing but time to get this taken care of from her side but nooooooo.

Okay, I digress. To make a long and now rather boring story short, we got up at 5:30, were at the hospital by 6:10 and we were done and out of there by 8am. Pretty impressive, all things considered. DeeDee's toe is much better, the offending piece of nail having been extricated from its fleshy prison, and she's revelling in the 'I've been through something traumatic today' type of spoiling that happens only rarely.

And of course, Sludge phones at 8:10 am saying she's at Yorkdale, how does she get to the hospital.

Uh, we're done. We're eating breakast, then heading home.


Of course, nothing is open anywhere at that time on a Sunday morning. Nothing. So where does she end up? Our house. Yep, chez nous. And that's how she's come be taking up space on my couch. Breathing my air. Watching my tv. Invading my comfort zone. Goodie for me.

And today will only get better - we get to spend the entire day togther, practially! Friends close, enemies closer, all that good stuff.

You see, we're heading out to our new community this afternoon. We've bought a place there, and it's twice the distance to DeeDee that we currently deal with. So of course, we're attempting to introduce this new community to Sludge as somewhere she and DeeDee should move as well, so daddy and daughter would be closer together and he could have a much more positive influence on her life on an almost daily basis.

The plan was, therefore, to have Sludge meet us at the corresponding GO station at 3pm. Hubs would give her a tour of the town, and DeeDee and I would hang out with my sister and nephew, who DeeDee is just dying to see. All well and good...until Sludge shows up on our doorstep at 10am and now has to stay with us for a good five extra hours. Oh what fun.

I'm tired. I was up at 5:30, and while that's bad enough, to make matters worse I had some bad chinese for dinner last night that left this diva feeling mighty uncomfortable in her little ensuite in the wee hours. So I think I'm going to take a nap. Not usually a napper, but I'll never make it through the day at this rate.

And something tells me I'm gonna need all my strength to survive beyond sundown.

And that's your daily dash. How's your diva doin'?

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