My dad and his lack of polish when he talks

So much for squeezing in a post in January. At least I'm back a lot sooner than a year later!

I'd like to get a couple of unpleasant experiences out of the way. It happened yesterday. Being a co-caregiver with my dad has not been smooth. 

Yesterday, he was yelling at my mom because she wouldn't swallow her pills. I had to intervene by saying that yelling at her isn't going to make her swallow her pills any faster.

He sets a lot of double-standards. He tells me not to yell at her when I am telling her to stop hitting me. She seems to have dementia, but we are trying to get a proper diagnosis. Having dementia would explain her inclination to hit me. Yet, it's perfectly okay if he yells at her for not remembering how to swallow her pills.

He is a jerk. He can be insensitive. He also can't express himself well.

A couple of hours later, I walked own the stairs with a stairlift that my mom now uses. I heard a thud. I asked what the thud was.

My dad said that it was the smoke detector that I had caused to fall from the ceiling because I was walking down the stairs.

Was he insinuating that I'm heavy walking down the stairs? Rude.

This smoke detector had fallen from the ceiling two weeks ago when my dad and I had helped my mom out of the shower.

I shot back that maybe he should have installed it properly two weeks ago. I did not cause this smoke detector to fall from the ceiling both times. Look into your faulty installation before blaming me.

He can be a prick. He often makes idiot statements.

He has said many stupid comment to me since I've been alive. I'll leave that to another post. All these incidents have resurfaced from memory.

He told my uncle a few years ago that he was fat. I was stunned and embarrassed when he said that in front of my mom, and my aunt and uncle.

My blog will now be focused on taking care of my mom and dealing with my dad who has actually been more difficult to comprehend. I'll also squeeze in good things about my life.

Happy 2026! Thoughts and dry eye

Happy 2026! I hope that your year has started off well.

Where I am, we had a record snowstorm on Sunday. Toronto Pearson International Airport got 46 cm of snow. Those closest to Lake Ontario got 60 cm, including my old neighbourhood of the Beaches.

I live in the suburbs. I got a lot of snow. I don't think it was 60 cm. It was a lot.

Last year wasn't the best. I ended up with a stomach ulcer, which required some medication, yogurt, probiotics, and Gravol. The medication made me gag, which explains the Gravol. Since then, I do feel like I gag more when I see something that triggers that feeling.

Weird.

I keep on saying that I have a lot to say. I truly do. I have a lot to post about my mom's recovery from her broken arm and my difficult relationship with my dad.

I will start off with December and work my way backwards in 2025.

I get my eyes examined every two years in December. Earlier in the year, I noticed that my eyes were getting dry wearing contacts. My eyes felt gritty and I'd often take my contact lenses out.

For most of 2025, I wore my glasses instead. My eyeballs felt better. I'd be putting in eye drops whenever I needed them.

My eye doctor said that my eyes were in great shape and that my prescription hadn't changed. She did notice that the pores were clogged under my eyelids by natural oils. It explains my dry eye.

She recommended putting warm compresses over my eyelids to melt the oils. I did that by heating up a mask in the microwave. It felt great over my eyelids, but the heat would die down after ten minutes.

I bought a plug-in eye mask instead for more consistent heat. I use it every day over my eyelids for twenty minutes. It's me time. I like how relaxing the heat is.

I feel that this eye mask procedure has helped. I wore contacts lenses for the first time in months last week. I had them on for three hours. They were comfortable. I didn't feel any grit. 

I haven't tried wearing them to work. Baby steps. I'll probably wear them this Saturday when I run errands for a few hours and see how I feel.

I still use eye drops. I lubricate my eyeballs twice a day. It has been easy. I have eye drops in the washroom. I remember applying them after washing my face in the morning.

Just before bed, I apply eye drops before I fall asleep.

Time to use my eye mask. I'll try writing another post before January is over. I need to ease into writing more regularly again.

Surgery on my mom's arm

Originally, when we went into emergency, the orthopedic surgeon thought that having my mom in a cast to heal her arm on its own was good enough.

I was surprised to hear from the fracture clinic at the hospital the following day, which was a Monday. The woman wanted us to come back to the hospital on Tuesday for a 7:30 am appointment for x-rays and more.

It was a super early appointment. Surgeons tend to operate during regular morning hours, so these appointments happen before and after surgery. We got the before.

At the in-person check-in area at the hospital, we got there at 7 am. I went up to one of the desks and got yelled at. Apparently, there is a lineup before approaching one of them. We were the only ones there at this hour.

The sign is roughly eight feet high. Although I am tall at nearly six feet, I don't look up eight feet to read signs. They should be at a normal eye level.

I said that it was confusing. I disliked when the woman at the desk said that it wasn't. First, it's how I feel. It's my first time navigating your hospital. You work here. You are used to where things are. I didn't appreciate this woman challenging my feelings.

I write user documentation for a living. I put myself into the target audience's shoes. Did you, know-it-all woman? Nope. If I find it confusing, and I'm fairly intuitive, I'm sure I'm not the only one, which includes my parents.

Second, give me a break. It's 7 am. My parents are old. We are the only ones there at this ridiculous hour. You are going to have us to go through your regular process of lining up when we are the ONLY people there? Ludicrous. 

We got x-rays on my mom's arm. The break was just above her elbow. The surgeon recommended that she get operated on -- that she get a metal rod and plates to have her arm heal.

My mom's surgery was the following day, the Wednesday, in the morning. Even getting that time was so confusing between the man who takes off stitches and the surgeon.

Thankfully, the not-so-cheerful experiences at the hospital on this day were the only ones that we had encountered. Maybe Tuesdays are simply days to avoid getting appointments here.

We have a follow-up appointment tomorrow. It's not so early. We'll see how things go.

My mom broke her right arm

Hello! I haven't been writing much here. Things have been busy.

On Sunday, July 27, at roughly 9:30 am, my mom broke her right arm. She was going up a set of stairs, gripping onto the railing on either side of her. She lost her footing, spun around, and sat down on a square platform between two sets of stairs.

She landed safely. The problem was that she was still gripping on to both handrails. My dad and I were with her. We both heard her arm snap.

I called 911. She went to the hospital in an ambulance. I drove my dad up to the hospital. It has not been easy hanging out with my dad. He does not express himself well. He has anxiety. He lets out his feelings by yelling. He is also hard of hearing.

Everything that I do is not good enough for him. He said that I was driving slowly. Um, no. The paramedics need to get my mom checked in first. It doesn't make sense for me to break the sound barrier and try and be there before the ambulance.

My mom was in emergency. She got a makeshift cast after x-rays were done. The doctor said that she'd be back in a week's time. We got a call the following day to come in on Tuesday.

It's probably my main beef. Folks at the hospital aren't great at telling patients what is going on. They also use hospital jargon that does not make sense to a regular person like me.

I'll rant about these points later. I thought that I'd document things now before I forget.

My ex never cleaned out his trolley at the office

Last Wednesday, I was in the office. There are a number of trolleys (lockers on wheels) that are locked at work. A full-time employee can get a trolley to store their belongings, as we don't have assigned desks.

The facilities manager unlocked a bunch of them. There is a high demand for them now that we are at the office more often.

I heard my manager look at the contents of one of the lockers:

This person has a toothbrush. He lived here. He was a trainer. He's long gone.

This trainer was my ex.  He left the company maybe two years ago. He never bothered heading to the office to fetch his belongings. 

The toothbrush detail was interesting. Frankly, he was more concerned about flossing, but the toothbrush was a close second.

I miss the good times being with him. I don't miss being treated like dirt and having my heart torn apart. It took a lot of strength to kick him to the curb when he wanted sex without a relationship. Dumb.

Skype

Microsoft is retiring Skype. Its two-decade existence will be a memory soon. It makes sense as Microsoft can focus on Teams.

In a way, it ends a chapter in my life. Whenever my ex-boyfriend and I would chat when he was on the road, we used Skype.

It's bittersweet. When our relationship was fresh and new, I loved chatting on Skype with him. There were a few times where he removed me as a contact. I didn't know why. He'd eventually add me back. I got anxiety when he did remove me as a contact. It was the same with Facebook. I feared that he didn't want to be with me when he removed me as a contact. I look back and it seems so silly, but it was real and caused a lot of anxiety.

I don't miss the various connection issues that we faced using Skype.

When he broke my heart, I removed him as a contact on Skype. He sent me a contact request. I ignored it.

It was a bit of his own medicine. I'm glad that I could reciprocate.

At work, we use Teams. Before that, we used Skype. I won't miss it.

The ex and I never communicated on Teams at work. He had left the company just before we switched to Teams.

Skype is a good marker. It cements how final our relationship is.

Messaging an old friend

I wrote a while back that I had found my best friend from grade 7. I was contemplating whether to contact her.

Since then, I have been watching her reels on Instagram and hearing what she has to say. It took a recent reel in which she talked about trying to tell folks about her torture through her body language that encouraged me to finally contact her.

I remember her jumping at touch. She would walk fast with her arms crossed in front of her chest when she was upset. She had that flee instinct.

She was brave to state in grade 8 that she was sexually abused. She didn't spill all the beans about being tortured in a cult because she was still a part of it. It was tough for her to escape and be safe.

I am glad that I contacted her. I let her know that I have always believed her. I hope that she writes back. We'll see.