A Reminder to Put Pants on Every Morning

I have a very dear Uncle, Uncle G, and it is only through medical miracles and (perhaps) prayers sent around the world that he is here with us today.  He is the Big Dawg’s brother, and they share red curly hair, freckles, and a love for the outdoors

Perhaps roughly two years ago, Uncle G was in the midst of getting a divorce.  It was a good thing for him, truly was.  One weekend morning, he hopped on his motorcycle and sped away to the local grocery store, because he was having people over and he was out of toilet  paper.  While on his journey, he was sideswiped by a truck.  He was life-flighted to KU Med, which is where anyone goes when anything really serious happens, in Kansas City, about an hour away.

We didn’t know for quite awhile if Uncle G was going to make it, and then when it became clear that he WAS going to live, we were very unsure that we would get back the same Uncle G that had been literally scraped off the road just weeks before.

My sister, a physical therapist, living in the same town, went and spent time with Uncle G nearly every day.  She read his medical reports, kept family updated, and just spent time with Uncle G.  She was a true blessing for him and for family, for us, to keep us updated.

Time went on and there were many different complications.  More surgeries, more IV’s, more antibiotics.  The guy couldn’t catch a break.  Even after leaving the hospital, he had to be rehospitalized at least once, that I know of.

But little by little, Uncle G was coming back.  And he did it with the most positive attitude I have ever seen in a person, and I mean ever.  Prior to his accident, he was always extremely positive and seemed like a happy person.  This accident didn’t take it away from him.

Today I was home alone, feeling bad for myself, having slept half my day away because I was up half the night, thinking I might as well just go back to bed instead of facing the intolerable loneliness I often feel these days.  Angry at myself for screwing up my psych meds for far too long, angry that the doctors just can’t figure out what is wrong, angry that I still don’t feel good.  Just angry.  Lonely and angry.

And then my favorite Uncle G called.  He wanted to stop by and visit.  He’d be here in five minutes.  The depressed part of  my brain screamed out, “Nooooo!  Your house is a mess and your hair isn’t washed.  Just put him off!”  So, that’s what I did.  Immediately after hanging up the phone, I had a revelation.  Uncle G would SO understand what I am going through.  So, I called him back and asked him to, yes, please come over.

Walking through the house, it really isn’t all that messy.  The kitchen is clean, and other than Avon products strewn across my dining room table, isn’t even cluttered.  I was only worried then about the fact that my now-short hair couldn’t go into a ponytail, but I found a headband and it actually looks rather cute.  To give myself a little burst, I gave myself one squirt of body splash and felt almost immediately better.

I put on jeans.  Better still.  One of my favorite tops.  Even better.  My feet still won’t fit into my shoes, but I jammed a pair of flip flops on and decided that would work.  All of this took less than five minutes.  I timed it.

And then Uncle G came and all was well, all was fine.   We had a really nice conversation and we talked about how it is to be sick for long periods of time and what we can do to make ourselves feel better.  I told him that just changing my clothes was motivating enough that I was going to run out and do a few errands.

So, a phone call and an uncle made my day today.  What’s making yours?

 

The Downside of Care-Taking

All relationships have their ups and downs.  Heaven knows that DSB and I have had our share.  For the past two months, things have been very tense because DSB has been laid up and I have been caretaking, working, and running a household.  All by myself.  Did I mention the waiting on hand and foot part of it?  Stressful.  Miserable.  Made all the more miserable by his miserable attitude.

I understand being in pain.  I understand not feeling good.  What I don’t understand is taking frustration with that out on your partner.  I really don’t.  I can forgive a lot of it, but sometimes it’s just like, “Really?  Seriously?”

DSB came home from the hospital on Thursday evening.  He was in good humor, we had a crap dinner from McDonald’s, and pretty much went to bed.  I worked Friday and he called, asking where his truck keys were.  Well, I really didn’t know off the top of my head and couldn’t really see why it was so urgent that I find them, so I told him I would find them when I got home from work.

When I was leaving work, I found them in my glove box.  I texted this to DSB and he replied about how he never should have left something “so important” with me and he should have taken care of it himself.  Whatever.  They weren’t lost and it wasn’t like he was getting ready to take his non-running truck on a joyride.

When I got home, we almost immediately left for his doctor’s appointment and there were a lot of sighs and moans on the way, as he criticized my driving, claiming I was taking rough roads just to cause him pain.  Sure, that’s what I’m doing.  Makes total sense.  Then he was grumpy in the doctor’s office because I asked some questions.

By the time we got home, things were very tense.  DSB seemed to be oblivious, but I was reliving all of his little comments.  We ate dinner and went to bed.  We left the night off on a good note, so I was hopeful for the morning.

I woke up this morning and had breakfast and coffee.  I then went in to see DSB and he asked me to run out and get him biscuits and gravy.  I told him I didn’t want to leave twice in one day (because it is fracking cold out) and that we could combine the grocery shopping trip and his biscuits and gravy run into one trip.

I was then accused of not caring about him, not putting him number one, and being selfish.  Okay then.  Two can play this game.  I had no desire now to be in the same house as him the rest of the day, so I called my mom and told her I was coming into work and then I would hang out with her in the afternoon.

No, it’s not my scheduled day to work, but we have recently totally revamped the store and there are still many things that need to be put away and organized.  So, there is a valid excuse to go to work, other than to get away from the house.  I actually like all of the little organizing and putting things away into their place.

I told DSB my plan to go to work at 10:00am and then spend the afternoon with mom.  He grunted something at me, not sure what, other than I think it was just to say he heard me.  I told him that I’d run get him biscuits and gravy when I left and he said to just forget it.  He knew that he was not important to me.  That I only do things if they serve me.

So, my plan is to totally stop doing anything for DSB.  Maybe once that is taken away, he will see how much I do for him, and possibly apologize, although I doubt it.  I guess what I am saying is that, at this point, I am not willing to bend over backwards to help  him out as I have been doing for the past two months.

Want a drink of water?  A pillow?  Something fall on the floor?  Get it yourself.  He is supposed to be moving around because of the blood clots, so here’s his opportunity.  I think it will be beneficial for him to fend for himself for awhile.

That, and I’m just pissed and fed up.  I don’t think I’m wrong in feeling that, and even so, I don’t really care at the moment.

This and That

I stayed home from work today, because I couldn’t breathe and was very dizzy.  QoB took me to the doctor and they gave me more steroids.  Yay.

On another note, I don’t think it is depression that is doing me in, I think it is the last six weeks that I have been sick and been unable partake in my normal routine and busyness on the weekends that has me down.  Who wouldn’t be a little depressed after six weeks of working sometimes, not other times, and laying around most days?

I went back over to QoB’s yesterday night after I blogged.  A couple of my parents’ friends stopped by that we hadn’t seen in awhile and it was nice to chat.  I felt almost normal.  I realized that what I am lacking here is normal human interaction.  Not talking to mentally ill inmates, not talking to my even crazier co-workers…normal human interaction.  I am starved for it.

Something I also realized is that I am a bit lonely for a male companion.  Not lonely enough that I am going to do something about it, just noticing that it would be nice to have someone.  I am not getting ready to jump in a relationship, but the thought of one does not repulse me at this moment.

Not having much energy at the moment, so I’ll have to keep this short.  Bottom line is that I still feel like hell physically but have found that I don’t have to stay that way.  I just need to get well!

Mouthwash, Kate Nash