Directly in front of the Whitmore residence sits two police cars, an ambulance and a slew of spectators. In the back of the ambulance, sitting comfortably, is my husband. Not to worry though, he is getting his hand bandaged and awaiting an ice pack for his swelling eye.
Ruby Whitmore, my lovely mother, has locked herself inside the house and on the porch is my father. The invincible Robert Whitmore is negotiating to get in his own front door. I am watching helplessly.
There’s no way I could make this stuff up, people. My life has become and old re-run of Gilligan’s Island, riddled with absurd scenarios and stressful but almost comedic events. So let’s rewind.
This all started after my father had to have emergency surgery on his knee. The same knee he had surgery on a month ago. This second surgery took my father off his feet for three entire weeks. That said, even with us all chipping in, we were not able to cover my mother 24/7.
I contacted FSL, who provides the caregivers that come out during the week. I explained to them that we needed 24 hour coverage and we needed it ASAP. I have to say, they were a Godsend! They coordinated 24/7 care within three days. My parents eventually acquiesced but they were insistent on Craigslist Cassie staying with them overnight whenever possible (yes, the internet sensation that took advantage of my parents in every way possible). My siblings and I were reluctant, of course, because we had just established much-needed boundaries.
Herein began the drama. We had FSL caregivers scheduled for Friday and Saturday night. A very lovely lady by the name of Dahlia. Dahlia showed up, as scheduled by the company, and was greeted then turned away by Craigslist Cassie. Cassie and my mother had decided that Cassie was better suited to work the weekend. I call my mother after being notified by FSL that the worker was turned away. My mother passes the phone to Cassie, whom audaciously shares this master plan of her staying with my parents the entire weekend, which infuriates me further.
After this all dies down and I have apologized to FSL, I receive a panicked call from my father. Cassie‘s ex-boyfriend is beating at my parents’ front door and screaming at the top of his lungs for Cassie to come out of the house. My father tells me that Cassie is extremely frightened but does not want to call the police because he will get arrested. Thank goodness we are no longer in the East Valley and only a six minute drive away. My husband and I rush over to find the scenario just as my father laid out. There’s a gentleman beating at my parents’ front door, spittle and profanities flying from his mouth.
At this point Cassie refuses to come out and this guy refuses to leave. We are at an impasse. My husband decides to get out and see if he can reason with the guy. Before he can even get up the steps entirely, the guy punches my husband right in the eye. My husband fires back and they are now in a tussle on the ground. Against my parents’ wishes, I call the cops. Luckily, a neighbor had beat me to the punch. A police cruiser arrived just as I was talking to the 911 operator. At the arrival of the police, Cassie opens the door and darts over to the guy that just spent 30 minutes threatening her. She’s now franticly yelling at my husband and me about what we’ve done to her boyfriend, whom was being neatly tucked into a police cruiser. My mother was angry at all of us, except Cassie, and locked herself inside. So here we are.
You see, this is why you don’t hire caregivers privately. Had I gone with my instincts and had FSL cover all the shifts, none of this would have happened. Endpoint, my husband is okay, my father is discouraged, my mother hasn’t a clue and I remain sleepless.