When Chaos Rains

Yeah, I know — the expression is when chaos reigns, but lately it seems as if chaos is raining down on me like an acidic shower that erodes everything it touches. Maybe things aren’t that bad. It’s possible I simply no longer have any perspective on the way things should be.

Take today for example. My car broke down last Wednesday, and every day since then the mechanic has promised to have the car ready for me. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem except that my 97-year-old father is going through a medical crisis, and I’ve had to beg for rides to pharmacies for his medications, to doctors appointments, to and from the hospital. A lovely woman squired us around today, taking us not only to the doctor but to the hospital afterward when the same doctor who didn’t want to admit my father last Thursday decided my father needed hospital care after all.  My friend waited for me for arain while, then when I got tired of watching my father sleeping in the emergency room because they didn’t have a bed for him, we went out to dinner. Afterward, she took me back to the hospital so I could check on him once more, and it’s a good thing because they hadn’t fed him. And he was cold.

I got that straightened out, then my friend drove me home only to be met my demented brother who screamed obscenities at her. Cripes, she didn’t deserve that. Well, neither do I, of course, but her only “sin” was doing a good deed. She is used to dealing with the problems of the aged, so she understood what I was going through with my father, but now I feel bad for even asking her.

Luckily she, like everyone else in my life, knows the truth, so she didn’t believe brother dearest’s accusations that I’m killing the old man. (Where does he get this stuff?)

Perhaps I will get my car back tomorrow (with a hefty repair bill, I might add), but it’s no longer critical. I don’t need to worry about getting my father to the doctor’s office or to the hospital since he is already there. Well, sort of there. He’s parked in the emergency room with minimal care because even if they did have a bed for him, they don’t have the staff to man and woman it. Still, he’s right next to the nurse’s station, and she just got on duty and isn’t bored with the day yet, so he should be okay.

Me? I am so not cool. I lost my temper and screamed at my brother . I feel as if I should be above such base activities, but I am not always the person I want to be. Someday, perhaps . . .


Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.