Under the Strain

No heavy lifting, no pushing, no pulling, nothing where you need to exert yourself. That's what it says. Well how the fuck does one accomplish that really? Can you tell me? I don't know. I get home after what seems like the longest fucking day...I'm exhausted. I get a phone call from one of my dad's tenants that such and such has not been fixed. I think...fuck off lady..I don't really care as it's on order and there's not much I can do about it. Really. That's what I think even if it is fucked up. This is the tenant I had to tell off a month ago for calling me every day on a repair she very well knew was being taken care of. I actually asked her if she thought I had a fucking magic wand that I can make things just appear as the guy had been there to measure the night before for her repair and he had told her he would buy the part and install them that week...wtf really. So I go about my business and get another call from another tenant about another repair. This one a legit emergency that needs immediate attention. My repair guy is of course on vacation though I have a few back up people up my sleeve. I tell the dude I'll have someone there pronto. I call my guy he goes down there, calls me, I need a new water tank....$500 that I don't have. Okay I say. I'll drive down there in a bit and get you the money. He'll install it tomorrow. I go to my mom's and get some money. Go to my dad's where D is also visiting. I walk in to find my father half on and half off the floor...the aide trying to get D to help her. I go over but he has completely no strength...he's fucking falling. I tell him dad make an effort but he doesn't. My phone is ringing which I'm sure is the guy to fix the water tank. I tell D get the phone. D is too slow. D get the phone, get the phone. D answer the fucking phone already. I have my dad's knees braced against mine and he's reclining on the bed ass not supported by anything slipping. My father is screaming at D to help. Poor fucking D has the face of pain on. You can't yell at D...it traumatizes D. It's not good. I strain under the weight of my father and ask the aide why in the frick would you get him up....he wanted to. I tell her if he has no strength you don't get him up.  She tells me he screams if you don't and I tell her to let him scream....wtf. All I can think is there goes my babies. I fucking strained like a mother fucker and I'm tired. I'm just tired of it all. I say UNCLE universe...fucking Uncle...I give the fuck up.

D is beside themselves with upset and I give them a hug and say it's not you. I'm sorry that we yelled it's not you but it's too late and D is all fucked up too. We sit for a while in silence, everyone upset for one reason or another and D goes home which normally I would not allow D to go alone but I know D needs to go. I sit and wait for the water tank guy. I start to cry because really how much can one person take? The water tank guy comes and I ask him to help us put my father to bed and he says of course he will. I pay him and say goodbye. My father asks if I don't want to take care of him. The aide explains "she has to work in the morning". My father asks the aide if she'll take care of him. Yes, yes.

It's all fucked up and I go to my mom's to pick up Tess and she starts with her b.s. and I feel guilty because I can't take it even though she's been so helpful and I tell her I gotta go.

I get home.