The MIL is still at the Royal Gwent Hospital, despite us being told time and time again that she would "be home any day now." They (ie: the lying, two-faced bastards with PHDs) ASSURED us that she would be coming home on Friday so we worked like mad to get her lounge emptied and get vinyl flooring laid AND I booked a day's holiday to be there to help out. Did she come home Friday?
Ha.
She called every 15 minutes, I swear, just to have us tell her that no, her hospital bed had still not arrived at the house. An abulance was scheduled to bring her home at 4PM but at 4PM there was still no sign of her bed. THEN, she called us in tears (again) to say that the abulance drivers refused to bring her home anyway because the hoist hadn't arrived either and they refused to carry her up the THREE steps to our house without it. (We live in WALES. You know... Where the mountains live. You'd think the sissy-ass ambulance drivers would be trained for that but no, apparently not.)
So, the MIL is still not home and we're still waiting for the equipment to arrive. They say it'll be Tuesday now but we're not holding our breathes.
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