“Come Monday…” is a
weekly series that will involve a review of (or commentary about) websites,
movies, documentaries, television shows, sports, music, and whatever else may
tickle my fancy at the time. Be assured
that these reviews will be generally positive, as in accordance to the Jimmy
Buffett song “Come Monday.” This is
subject to change, however. In fact, I
would be most derelict in my duties to neglect going on a rant every once in a
while. For rants promote change, and
change can be good—right? Therefore,
since good is generally considered as being a positive force in 99.3% of the
parallel universes that I am aware of, even a rant could be considered as being
something positive, and a genuine hissy-fit would be even better (so I’m told).
A
couple of days after I had to go to the emergency room of one of our local
hospitals last October because of the pain from a torn muscle in the back of my
right thigh becoming almost unbearable, a nice lady rang the doorbell by our
front door. She identified herself as
being an investigator for the Greene County Family Services Division, and she
informed us that someone from the hospital had called their hotline to report
the possibility of me being the victim of abuse.
Be
assured that we were both shocked, but I still let out a soft chuckle to
myself. For the only abuse I had
suffered happened at the hospital by the staff on duty in the emergency room at
the time.
After
I enjoyed that brief moment of levity, a great fear started taking ahold of my
heart. For with none of us living in our
home being in good health, the thought about us being forced to become wards of
the state for our own good did not seem so far-fetched.
Thankfully,
that did not happen, but what I considered to be another nightmare did. For Arlynda eagerly agreed to have an
evaluator come by to see if we might qualify for help with housecleaning, home
healthcare, grocery shopping and a number of other available services while
visions of us trying to round up our pups after their minds had been blown by
the ringing of the doorbell danced in my head.
Alas,
there is very little easy about our current state of existences in this world. For even something as simple as inviting
someone into our home is a major undertaking that usually takes a day or two to
recover from.
Now,
my mother-in-law is not nearly as unhealthy as her daughter and me, but at 76
years of age, she has much to teach us about being cranky. Oh, and be assured that chasing a pack of
wild-eyed puppies throughout the house makes her very cranky.
Anyway,
it took the evaluator a couple of weeks to show up at our front door, and she
signed us up for six hours of housekeeping a month (I think), along with some
home nursing care for Arlynda. Since the
available services did not include a complete physical reconstruction, I
declined to sign up for any help.
Staying
consistent with the apparent pattern, it took the housekeeper a couple of weeks
to show up at our front door. Much to my
surprise, she turned out to be quite wonderful—both in personality and work ethic,
but after completing three hours of very hard work, we never saw her again.
Around
a month later, we received a phone call from another housekeeper. She asked about when would be a good time for
her to start coming by, and Arlynda told her that 1:00 pm on Fridays would
work, with her planning on not making any doctor appointments on Fridays.
The
next Friday, the new housekeeper showed up at 1:00 pm, and she also made my
longsuffering wife very happy. Of
course, some of that may have been from me being locked in our bedroom with the
pups while the housekeeper was there, but I am not sure.
No,
it did not so happen to be that the new housekeeper was French. As it turned out, she was originally from
Cincinnati, Ohio, but by the time she informed us on the third visit that she
was quitting [Help at Home] to go to work for the home care division of [Oxford Healthcare], it did not matter—either way.
For she had done less and less with each visit, and Arlynda was no
longer happy.
Her
unhappiness grew exponentially with each passing day without a phone call from
Help at Home about when a new housekeeper would start coming by. Furthermore, we had not heard a peep out of
them about when the nurse might come by, and Arlynda was wanting some help with
the trimming of her toenails.
Okay,
I must admit that I was not helping to make the situation better. For when Arlynda told me why she wanted the
nurse to come by, I quipped that it might be better to make an appointment with
a [farrier]. No, that did not help make
the situation better at all.
Arlynda
kept leaving messages for Help at Home when no one would actually answer their
phone. After a month had passed without
hearing a word from Help at Home about either a new housekeeper or a nurse, she
decided to ask Family Services if there was another provider available. There was, and she asked for Oxford
Healthcare to give her a call. Before
the call ended, the Family Services coordinator asked her to not quit receiving
services from Help at Home until arrangements could be made with Oxford.
So
we waited, and around two weeks later, a young lady showed up at our front door
on a Wednesday afternoon. She informed
Arlynda that she was the new housekeeper from Help at Home and that she had
been instructed to keep the 2:30 pm on Wednesdays appointment that Arlynda had
made.
Needless
to say, Arlynda was a bit miffed over not receiving a phone call beforehand—not
to mention the fact that she had never made a new appointment time for 2:30 pm
on Wednesdays, but she was happy to get the kitchen floor mopped and the
carpets vacuumed again. So, she allowed the new housekeeper to get to work after the pups were corralled.
Arlynda’s
happiness only lasted an hour and a half.
For that is when the new housekeeper left without mopping the kitchen
floor or vacuuming the carpets.
Moreover, she had woke up my very sickly wife to sign her time sheet, and
after thinking about it some, Arlynda was fairly sure that the sweet young
thing had put down that she had spent three hours cleaning our house.
By
the way, the new housekeeper looked like she could have been French, but I kept that
to myself. In any event, it did not
matter. For we never saw her again.
While
waiting for Help at Home to call us with information on another housekeeper, we
finally received a phone call from the nurse.
Arlynda told her that she could come by the next day, and I kept my
mouth shut (for a change).
The
next day, the nurse arrived at the appointed time. When Arlynda told me that the nurse had used
a [Dremel] on her toenails, I could not keep silent about how impressed I was
with the nurse for doing that. Arlynda
was not impressed with my comment, nor with the trimming done by the nurse.
We
finally received a phone call from Help at Home a few days ago, but before
that, another new housekeeper had showed up at our front door completely unannounced
three times. I was the only one at home
all three times. For Arlynda and her
mother were out keeping an appointment with one of her doctors, and as gently
as I could, I informed the new housekeeper of the fact that no appointment for
2:30 pm on Wednesdays had ever been made, along with imploring her to have Help
at Home give us a call so that proper arrangements could be made.
On
the third visit, the new housekeeper told me that she had to come by on
Wednesday afternoons or face being fired for abandonment of a client, which I
doubted out loud. When I asked her to at
least give us a call before just showing up at our front door unannounced, she
gave the same promise to do so that she had given the two times before.
Oh
yeah, I forgot to mention that somewhere along the way, the appointed time for
a housekeeper to come by had been mysteriously changed to 10:00 am. If I remember right, we received that bit of
information in a phone call from another new housekeeper, who has yet to
actually come by at any time.
No, I
do not have the words to express how disappointed we were over the newest
housekeeper not showing up at 10 am after making sure to be up and have the
pups secured the two times that we did.
For that sort of language has been removed from my mouth by our Heavenly
Father.
Much
to our chagrin, we did not discover that Help at Home and Oxford Healthcare are
evidently owned by the same entity until I looked up Help at Home’s website
for this piece. Not that it really
matters, I suppose. For we are have not
heard a peep out of the services coordinator at Family Services, nor Oxford,
about making a change since Arlynda asked about it several weeks ago. Sigh.
Please Also Visit:
and
I loved the 'farrier' bit.
ReplyDeleteThanks for stopping by, my dear Adullamite!!! You really shouldn't encourage me.
ReplyDeleteOh man I hear you, but you do tell a story that have me giggling like an imbecile at my computer screen...
ReplyDeleteGood luck forward, I really do hope something works out, Dremel or no Dremel. (P.S. I was clueless as to what a Dremel was until hubby purchased on last October, now I'm a proud enlightened one, heee heee heeee). And this is my first time using the word too...
Thanks for stopping by, my dear Shadow!!! I am very thankful for being given a sense of humor that enables me to laugh away the tears. There are times when the tears stand victorious, though.
ReplyDeleteNow, go order your hubby to make you some neat stuff for around the house with his Dremel. Of course, he must be better at following orders than I am. (LOL?)
There once was a farrier called Furrier who considered becoming a courier; but because he was such a worrier, he decided being a couturier would be more superior.
ReplyDeleteThanks for stopping by again, my dear Lee!!! BRILLIANT!
ReplyDeleteIt's hard to find good help these days no matter where you're looking for it.
ReplyDeleteThanks for stopping by, my dear Ann!!! Yeah, and that sure seems to apply to the management of Help at Home here in Springfield, as well.
ReplyDeletesad that they can't get their act together enough to stand by their lip service.
ReplyDeleteThanks for stopping by, my dear TWG!!! A Help at Home housekeeper was supposed to come by at 10 am yesterday morning. So, on less than four hours sleep (on account of not wanting to be asleep when she showed up) Arlynda herding our puppies into our bedroom and waited. At around 12:30 pm, she figured that the housekeeper was not going to show up again, and she let out our pups (and me, for that matter). At around 4:00 pm, Ms. Stephanie, from Help at Home, called to inform us that she had secured a housekeeper to come at 10 am on Wednesdays for us, but that she would not be able to do so on that day. When I pointed out the obvious to her that it was six hours after 10 am, along with that we had been ready for the housekeeper for the third time in a row without one showing up or at least giving us a call ahead of time to tell us that she would not be able to come by, Ms. Stephanie insisted that she had already talked to Arlynda about it. Be assured that this was a bold-faced lie.
ReplyDelete