I mentioned in last Wednesday's whine that my step-grandmother is a little well, cuckoo on her meds right now. Sis and I have done our homework on the meds and interactions and possible side-effects. Then Sis, armed with her newfound information, went with Papa and GG to the doctor today. Talk about confusion. She has a regular doctor and a cardiologist and these two men work in the same building, hell they even share an office, yet neither of them have talked to the other about her, her condition or anything. My personal opinion is that the regular doctor is a total moron and should not be allowed to practice medicine anywhere ever again and upon learning that the heart doctor is working out of Dr. Moron's office, I'm wondering about him as well. Btw, my opinion of Dr. Moron isn't formed out of just this experience - I've been forming this opinion for years.
So today Dr. Heart decides he wants to admit GG to the hospital for a few days to tweak around on her meds, observe her and do some tests. I think it's a good idea. I just wish all of the doctors involved would get to communicatin'.
They finished up the appointment and drove back to Papa's house where Heather began helping GG up the front steps. GG started to fall and Heather wasn't in a position where she could grab her arm and steady her, so from behind she just wrapped her arm around GG's waist to catch her.
And she grabbed GG's boob.
Notice I said she "wrapped her arm around GG's waist."
Yeah.
*shudder*
She was standing in my kitchen telling me about it with such a helpless look on her face and all I could do was laugh. She said, "I just can't get old. I just can't." I just patted her arm and offered her a cookie. I comfort with food, what can I say. She went on, "Well, I didn't realize at first that I'd grabbed it. I just thought I'd grabbed her belly. It wasn't firm and felt just like squishy skin. It wasn't until later that I realized, 'Yeah, I just touched my grandmother's breast.'"
5 comments:
Eeeewwwww! Diva! It's time for another note-to-self: Do not discuss a grandmother's "waist boobs" on my blog.
Thank you, thank you, Deadpanann, for my new favorite expression. Waist boobs. I'll be cackling all night over that one.
My mom told me this story : Once when she was a kid her mom was changing in front of her (my grandma was like forty three when she had my mom, so she was probably almost 50 at this point and Puerto Rican, so round/fat and 50.)
My mom said she saw these drooping boobs as a six year old and, not knowing what they were really, offered to hold them up for my g.ma and get them outta her way.)
Yeah, gross.
I can't help singing.......
Do your boobs hang low?
Can you swing them to and fro?
Can you tie them in a knot?
Can you tie them in a bow?
Do you throw them over your shoulder like a Continental soldier?
Do you boobs hang low?
one more time.......
all together now.....
Yes the do swing low, yes the do hang low, yes I can tie them in a know and I can tie them in a bow. I can even throw them over my shoulder!
Ew. My God. I'm now glad that all my Grandmothers passed away before I can remember. Ew.
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