Very, very, very unbelievably scary

I must say, I do a lot of very, very, very unbelievably scary things in the name of God's love for all men.

Tomorrow, I get to be scared again.

My Bishop handed me a card yesterday with the names of some folks I'd never heard of. They are from the southern part of my state and, I was told,  are up here while the wife is receiving chemo treatments.  They called the Bishop and asked if someone could help with rides to and from the hospital a couple of days this week.  

OoooooooK.  I guess.  

These kinds of requests always make me think, "Why did you not call and arrange that before you arrived? And why not give me some more notice?" But I try to be patient and imagine how I might act in a time of trouble and sadness.

Before I even got home from church and could call the folks,  I  had already received 2 messages from them. One from the woman, asking for assistance of any kind...and one from the husband that said, "This is Brother Blankity Blank. We've called twice now AND talked to your Bishop. HEEEEEEEEELP!!!  HEEEEEEEELP UUUUUUSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!"

0_0

No really - that is what he said.

This morning, at 8 am, I received another call interrupting family prayer.  I asked the Compassionate Service Leader to please call the couple and get me some deets while I ran errands this morning (I was grocery shopping for a sick sister and checking in on another family whose dad went back in today for more chemo.)

And then, beyond the craziness of the aforementioned phone message, we opened a whole other can of crazy crap!  Bro. Blank explained to her that they've lived here a long time, but just never come to church.  They'd like some help now and (I quote), "We hear a lot of people get help from this church - and we want to know how we can get our hands on some."

So, I called Bro. Blank myself. As the discussion progressed, he couldn't exactly tell me what it was that they NEED, but he did want to share that he no longer has custody of his children (neither he nor his ex-wife could afford them and so they were warded to his parents), that he's going to lose his job and insurance on the 17th of January because he is a "mean nurse with a short fuse," and that they would love to come to my home for Family Home Evening any time we'd like to host them.  He shared that his Bishop in his other ward isn't interested in helping their family now.  He also explained to me it is wearying to them to be asked what they need because really, people should just think of what someone with gastric cancer would need and do, "that kind of stuff."

At this point, I said to him, "Bro. Blank - before yesterday, I never knew you existed on the planet, much less that you were in need of service and that it was so desperate that you needed to make several calls to my home and to other leaders in this area (like my Stake President and Stake RS President telling them they weren't hearing from me.)  Some more specific directions right now could help me to help you faster as I get to know your family."

He went on to say that they would like to be entertained, especially during the day. If people could read to his wife, that would be great. Currently, she drives herself to chemo and has so many friends he gets irritated by them all (his words), but it'd be nice if we "stepped it up for a change."

Ahem.

I explained that our ward has two other families dealing with cancer diagnoses and treatments, and a myriad of other problems, disabilities, and overall stresses.  I further explained we were going to have to determine what was really needed at this time and what just sounded fun, but wasn't necessary. When I asked him about the rides I was told he needed, he shared that his wife drives herself to and from chemo and it's no problem.  We made arrangements that I'd come over tomorrow to visit and get more specific information.

While on the phone, I was put on hold so he could haggle with the Wendy's clerk and tell her he was a little short, so what was the least he could get the Frosty (he'd already sucked out of) for. He asked me how old I was (and laughed that I was young) and said he'd talk to me later and was glad I FINALLY called back.

Double ahem.

Minutes later, I received another call from Bro. Blank. He asked me what my name was again. He then said, "I spoke to my wife and she'd like rides to and from the hospital every day this week."

Mind you, the hospital is an easy 30 minutes away - but more like 45 in the morning, when she needs to arrive. And also mind you, my ward is doing this for another family, a woman who just had open-heart surgery, etc. etc. etc.  We're pretty tapped out.  There is a 4 hour wait between drop off and pick up, so it will take two sisters, or one very patient one, to assist this family.

I asked what had changed since she had been driving herself and why she now was also going on Fridays when he'd told both me and the Bishop that she "had Friday's off."  He explained that she's not really that happy driving herself and he's worried she will get depressed and drive herself to South Florida, back to her friends. 

I kept it to myself, but I asked, "And that's a problem......how?"

Explaining that I can't ask busy women to drive folks around because husbands think their wives will run away from home, he changed his tune and said her doctors told her she can't drive.

Also, he decided that when someone picks them up -  they could bring some dinner for that night. Or better yet, someone else could come by later with dinner.  Also, the missionaries should probably stop by every day and read his wife the Bible.

Aaaaaaaalrighty then.

So tomorrow, I'm going to meet this motley crew and get some things straightened out.  The sense of entitlement not just by this family - but by sooooooo many - is staggering.

I will say it leads to great stories, though!

Once again, I will tromp into some stranger's home and hope they are on the up and up.  It's a little nervous-making to do this so often, but I figure, if I haven't been offed yet, what're the odds that tomorrow will be the day?

Right?