It's all relative

When the school year got underway, Mr. High Maintenance and his mother/grandmother quickly became the bane of my existance. I was always doing something wrong, this and that weren't right, and I was being instructed by a 4th grader on how to give insulin. Little Spitfire quieted down quickly, and when I made frequent calls to mom complaining of outdated orders, she was friendly and apologetic. Part of the deal I made with her was that we could continue with blood sugar checks and treating outrageously high blood sugars, like 475, if she guaranteed her availability at that morning check via cellphone and directed us precisely. (She also asked if I needed orders for the morning check and correction dose and had to resist a hugh "DUH" that nearly came out of my mouth). Spitfire's mom did as we discussed "while waiting for the orders", and the plan had been working like a charm until the mother started school, which she failed to warn me about. Yesterday, while I was at my middle school, there was a fiasco when the staff realized mom wasn't going to be answering her phone and found out from the grandma who arrived soon after that she wouldn't be in the future either because of classes. The poor secretaries later got an earful from mom about how her daughter wasn't being taken care of properly and suggested they go get trained at the hospital on insulin. (Because that's totally in their job description.) To put a stop to the madness, I sent home a very clear letter today with Little Spitfire reminding her mom that there ARE NO ORDERS for the morning check. We can't give insulin and will not be without a parent/guardian present to do it themselves. Period. And now I dread the backlash I will get from such a direct note, which is always one of the worst parts of this job...waiting for a parent to complain about you. (As an aside, I'm not sure how this woman is going to school or found the time to complain to the secretaries yesterday. She's on husband #3, and has children from each of them so that her assortment of kids looks like the Jolie-Pitt clan seen in the tabloids.)

 

This big ol' mess has made Mr. High Maintenance, who has now become far more trusting and respectful when I see him, seem like a piece of cake.