Sunday, December 8, 2013

Two Or Three Days Later

 Two or three days later, since I last wrote something on the blog. You see, there are days I don't feel particularly witty. Other's I don't feel much like doing anything at all. Still other days are so damn monotonous that there isn't much to blog about. Strangely enough, I sometimes can't think of a damn thing worth writing about. That amazes some folks that I know, that I would be caught at a loss of words. I'm full of surprises.

  I was thinking tonight, since I got a night's full of sleep way earlier than I would have normally liked, that I am missing a thing or two. I'm missing, mostly, sleeping with my wife. It's working on eleven months since I had surgery and in that time I believe I've only been able to sleep in my bed for a couple of months. At first, after the surgery, I was of course stuck in a hospital bed. That turned into twenty one days instead of the seven the doctors had first thought would be my full time stay. Liz stayed with me in the hospital the entire time. I can't even begin to find the words to express how humble, loved, and fearless her being with me made me feel. She sacrificed her life, to watch over mine. She became my voice and defender, and I'm still in awe of her, and probably will be for however much longer I have left. Does this mean we've never had words or hurt each others feelings? No, not at all, because we have. The farther along I get, the closer I get to the end of my time, I get a little more picky and grouchy. There are times when decisions are made without asking me what I think. That tends to bother me a lot more now than it used to bother me. It makes for some hard feelings, I dislike that. I'm working on fixing it as well, so I'm less pressured from myself. Now that I've managed to run clear off the rails from that I was missing, I think I can head back to that.
  Yeah, I really miss sleeping with my wife. There is something that really comforts me in being able to reach out and touch her in the wee hours, when I'm in that between sleep and waking, and I am relaxed by that fact. I honestly sleep far better. It's nice to be able to touch her hand, rub her side. listen to her breath. Twenty two years of that and I became so accustomed to it, I still have trouble sleeping if she's not near me. It's funny how that works, isn't it? Here I am, this tough individualist, who can take care of so many things on my own now, and I strive to do that, and I feel more than a little lost without being in the same bed as my wife. It's because I have come to rely on her so much. Her help with doctors, her ideas and thoughts on about everything, and how steady she is when I'm on the edge of blowing my cool. Fun stuff like that, and it seems to all come together when I can lie down in a bed, put my hand on her, and fall asleep. She's become my protector, and is a damn good one. Probably better at it than I was being hers.

  Short note. Oldest comes home from work. The cheese sticks that she ordered with pizza are gone. She is vexed. Apparently this is not what she said when she left. I am cracking up. Strange how this sounds and seems like an all too familiar occurrence when I had a house full of kids.

  Excitement that comes along this week. Huge ice storm and damn chilly temperatures. For this part of the world, flippin crazy cold. Not just that it hasn't made it to 30 in the last several days, but it's because it's not made it to 30 in the last several days. It gets cold here once in a while, but it doesn't hold on this long as a rule. There had been loads of wrecks, schools closed (which didn't happen very often when I lived up in Kansas, but they were prepared for long cold spells and bad roads), as well as a lot of businesses. Probably very wise. Anyway, I thaw out my car daily, and go see what kind of fun the rest of the city is having, and I find that even when the roads are very slick with ice, the folks here still believe a four wheel drive can get around at regular speed. There  is the reason for the wrecks. I got a few things done. One is fairly interesting.
   I wake up early Thursday morning and my PEG line (feeding tube) has a piece that is for inflating the balloon that holds it in has come apart. Well, that's odd. So I find the pieces in my lap and put them back in the spot they belong, and I notice that I can see the balloon top sticking out of my stomach. Not so hot, because that means it's about to fall out. I put it back in and semi inflate the balloon (I thought I inflated it all the way, and may have), and take about a two hour nap. I feed myself about 0300, get my daily drugs in about 0400, have coffee about 0500, take the boy to school, and go to Lymphedema therapy. Home by 0930. Things cook along like a normal day about 1700 my damn PEG line falls clear out of my stomach. That's a bit of a surprise. I plug the hole, Liz gathers up some slick em, and we put the damn thing back in and re-inflate the balloon. I also text Hospice. They say go the ER and they'll alert them that I am coming. I get the text that the Dr who was to see me will be can at 1800. I get the text at 1805. Anyway, off we go. And I know it's going to be a while because it's nasty weather and the police are working more of the soon to be 90 accidents in town. Long story short, I was curt with Liz and didn't mean to be, and we worked that out. I felt like people were making decisions for me without asking me first. One of the things I'd like to do is make my decisions, with Liz's advise, while I'm mentally able. There may come a time when I can't at all. Until then I'd like to at least have a say in what goes on.
  Friday it's miserably slick out in the morning, and at least until after 1200. So I go into Massage Envy to talk to them about getting a relaxation massage. I was told out of hand, before they asked me a question about any of my conditions or what I could stand and how I might be able to get a massage. So, what did I do? I talked to Liz about it, and what was told to her and what was said to myself appeared to be two different things. Hmmmm. I bailed on FaceBook, did a search, found the corporate page and messaged them with my feelings, as well as an alternative, in case this was just a simple misunderstanding. I added that in the past I'd referred people there, but that would stop, and I would be discouraging people from using the services. I posted pretty much the same thing on the local facilities FaceBook page. Low and behold, I get a call and give it to Liz since I don't hear well. They want us to come in and talk about how to get me a massage. Seems I am now set up with massages until I am unable. It's so frustrating that any more you get more done if you're acting like an asshole. Not suck a long stretch for me, actually.

  Allrighty then! This ends another blog and it was brought to your by the letter "8" and the number "I couldn't careless".

 Behave yourselves, it's Sunday

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