Advice for those with bipolar disorder:

1. Develop a strong faith life.
3. Communicate with your doctor. Be honest; if you are hearing things he needs to know, and it's a very easy fix! I know!
4. You're going to have to deal with side effects: remember they are worth it.
5. You are DEAD without your medication.
6. Avoid drugs and alcohol: they are mood poison.
7. Learn to laugh at yourself and ride the waves.
8. Proper sleep is vital; don't neglect it.

Saturday, September 24, 2016

"Give the man a beer!"

Ron used up a lot of his sympathy tonight at dinner. 

He finally woke up around noon, felt pretty good, kept saying how sad it was that he felt so good, to be normal.   I said, I get it.  I get migraines.  I understand.  He disregarded what I said. 

We arranged to take a cab to Walmart to turn in his prescriptions and pick them up.  I had him in the wheelchair.  I put the wheelchair away and took it out. 

We tend to acquire older drivers with back issues. 

We went into the very busy store.  They will not be closing it any time soon. 

We went to the pharmacy and turned in the prescription.  They said it would be half an hour.  Not bad for a Saturday afternoon. 

Even better when it only cost $32 for everything.  We called our driver and got ready to leave. 

We talked some about the blackouts he had while taking Neurotin, several years ago.  I basically showed him my scars.  He was really shocked the memories were so vivid.  He assured me he would be very careful with his drinking and there would not be any blackouts. 

But I've heard that before. 

I told Ron I would like to get some BBQ, we never got a chance to have a "real" birthday or anniversary dinner.  He agreed, the driver agreed, and we went out to a very good BBQ place not far from the Walmart.  They have a really good cheesecake and an exceptional smoked turkey. 

Ron was in his wheelchair.  When we got into the restaurant he ordered his food, then started "begging" for a beer.  I told him I didn't see any.  The employee told me where to get it.  I had already pushed the wheelchair past the cooler so I joked, "OH, I'm already past it, too late". 

Ron kept begging for a beer.  By now I was getting pissed.  He did this before at another restaurant and someone yelled at me.  Ron kept crowing about how the man had yelled at me to "Get the man a beer!" 

I kept pushing him toward the register.  The employee shouted at me to get Ron a beer. 

Ron smirked.  I shook my head.  The man yelled at me again. 

I am sorry to admit I caved and got Ron a beer. 

When we got to the table, I let him have it.  I told him I was sick of his little game of begging for beer and trying to "shame" me into breaking my rule of never providing him with alcohol.  If he wants validation, I think, he should go to a bar, but stop begging like an alcoholic. 

In fact, I will remind him it makes him "look like an alcoholic".  Ron is very proud and doesn't want to be seen "that way" so maybe that will help. 

I continued.  I told Ron, I would never buy him beer again.  Tomorrow I will tell him, if he starts begging for beer I will loudly discuss his behavior during a blackout, and I know he doesn't want that getting out. 

I was furious.  I don't appreciate him manipulating other people into "shaming" behavior to support his habit.  As far as I was concerned, he ruined a perfectly good dinner. 

I'm still trying to forgive him. 

I am doing everything I can to be strong, set good boundaries, and support him in healthy ways. 

I just wish he could respect that.

An Anniversary to remember

I should probably make another drink before I type all this out. 

I spent our anniversary at work, and then the ER, with Ron. 

Ron had been kept up all night by foot pain (radiating from his back) all Thursday night.  Friday morning we went into work very early to get our Dr Pepper delivery, stock, inventory, etc.  We did all that but Ron was still in extreme pain. 

He was "barking" in pain.  It wasn't really a yelp or a yell, more of a bark.  He would shout in pain and his face was contorted in pain.  All radiating from his back. 

I didn't say anything, but he said he wished he had done the surgery on the 14th.  [I did make myself a drink - sugarfree raspberry lemonade]

First, though, he was concerned about recovery time.  We have a mandatory vendor conference in a couple of weeks.  What if he couldn't attend?  Our boss had a similar surgery to Ron and was out of work for months. 

I tried to tell Ron he just has to sit at the conference, he doesn't have to fill a vending machine.  That reassured him a bit.  Then the other vendor said he would not give us a ride. 

I didn't think that was very nice, but it's their vehicle.  If they want to refuse a ride for a crippled man in a wheelchair (I would fold the chair and put it away), they can.  As they say "It's a free country". 

That was a real kick in the gut, though, now we have to arrange a 600 mile round trip journey, or ride Greyhound.  That got Ron back to could he walk up the steps, after the surgery. 

He talked to the "Supreme Commander's" secretary/admin and she referred him back to our boss.  Our boss did some research into it and said we could take a serve-safe course if Ron couldn't attend. 

All this time, Ron is yelping "Ah!" in pain and doubling over periodically, while trying to fill the machines.  Happily the machines did not need a lot of work but it was gruesome to watch. 

No matter how he's treated me at times, I wouldn't wish this on him, ever.  I suggested, if it got really bad, we could go to Urgent Care.  He said no. 

We got home and I took a nap.  Ron drank what was left of the vodka, in the hopes that it would alleviate his pain.  It didn't. 

Happily he didn't have enough to trigger a blackout, which has happened in the past with these episodes (this isn't the first, just the worst). 

When I got up, a couple hours later (remember I woke up at 2 AM), Ron was groaning and doubled over again.  He was using his back massager on his foot. 

I suggested, using it on his back, since that's where the pain originated.  He did that and said it helped a little but he needed to go to the ER. 

First, though, he wanted me to take the deposit to the bank, and run by Walmart and pick up my prescription as we'd planned.  He called our driver. 

I did as instructed.  When I got home Ron was on the verge of calling 911.  I only talked him out of it by reminding him the cats would get out. 

We loaded him into the truck and drove off down the road.  Then our driver started talking about this blind man he met the other day, how the credit cards were so neatly organized in his wallet.  His wallet.

"We need to turn around". 

Ron's wallet was in the backpack because I needed the business debit card to make the deposit.  I had to run back and get it. 

We headed back up the road, in rush hour traffic, to the hospital.  We got there, I loaded Ron in the wheelchair, bringing my hospital bag.  I had various things like my tablet, quarters for the vending machine, change of clothes for Ron, personal care items for Ron, and chocolate for the medical providers.  . 

Don't laugh, a bag of mini Snickers will go a long way to establishing a good rapport with the care provider.  I also had my medication, which I took at the proper time

I hauled that all in and checked Ron in.  He was still screaming in pain, periodically.  His blood pressure and heart rate were elevated. 

Then he had me plug his massager into a spare outlet so he could "vibrate" his foot.  We got some looks for that but the medical peeps were cool about it. 

He saw the intake nurse, the triage nurse, and then a nurse practitioner.  Our driver waited for us, and he said she was giving people stuff to drink for CAT scans, etc.  She basically took one look at Ron and sent him "back".

We got Ron settled in his hospital bed.  He was still screaming in pain. 

What a day, huh? 

Another nurse practitioner came in, this one managing Ron's case.  I gave him Ron's written up medical history and the MRI report on his back (save some money if they already know what's wrong).  He talked to Ron, did an exam "AAHG!" and left. 

The nurse came back a little later.  He had steroids and morphine.  They didn't work.  After a while I rang and told them it didn't work.  The NP came back.  He was worried about Ron. 

I found Star Wars Episode 4 (the one that introduces Luke and Leia), and watched that with the volume down, and the captioning on.

The nurse came back after a while with more goodies.  This time, Valium and Morphine.  I think Ron has a tolerance to Morphine due to all the morphine he was given after the accident.  They had him pumped full of the stuff for weeks. 

Anyway, the morphine didn't really help the pain but the Valium kicked his butt.  He started mumbling about wanting his own bed. 

Ron finally said he wanted to go home, outright, and I told the nurses.  I put him in his wheelchair (he didn't have any IV's), and they came with the discharge paperwork. 

They prescribed Neurontin and Tylenol #3.  I was a little worried they would think Ron was some sort of pain pill junkie but they specifically told me "We know he's not 'seeking'".  So he has something. 

However, the pharmacy was closed.  We checked out, a very cheerful lady in a hijab named "Jennifer" of all things.  She was nice. 

I grabbed our driver and we left.  Did Ron want to go to a 24 hour pharmacy?  No? 

We went home.  I got Ron into bed and fell asleep myself. 

What a day. 

Thursday, September 22, 2016

I try to keep y'all happy

I wanted to go out to breakfast this morning, which meant getting up at 5:30.  On my birthday, but we were supposed to have a lot of rain today. 

Supposed to. 

Instead, I forgot to set the alarm and woke up around 6:30.  I got up and took my shower, I didn't have time for my God Time, which I did later. 

First, we went out to breakfast.  I had pancakes, Ron had an egg sandwich.  He ate about half of it and ate the rest at home. 

I ate most of my pancakes.  Since, I figured, this would be my Big Meal, I took all my medication in the morning (this is Ok for me to do). 

We had an interesting ride home, we picked up a woman with Down's syndrome.  She was very belligerent, kept calling Ron "Cowboy" in a derisive way, and cursed.  After she got out Ron wondered who's behavior she was modeling. 

We got home and I took a good long nap.  I had a nightmare that Ron had a blackout.  Between that and the headache, I was awake!  I took some aspirin, which worked, and tried to distract myself with my God Time. 

I did that and had a good time, then got online.  I had a lot of happy birthday wishes, for which I thank you all!  :) 

I am still hunting for a cute titanium ring, but haven't found The One yet.  It may be a cheap purchase but I want to have something I like to look at, on my hand. 

Mom and Dad called.  They are doing well.  A lot better, to be told, than Ron.  I told them Ron had a blackout on Monday and I had to cover. 

I will not lie and cover.  If Ron doesn't want me sharing then he needs to moderate his behavior. 

I noticed my arms are getting kind of pudgy.  I think this goes along with the menopause thing, I see a lot of overweight women my age with pudgy arms.  I am used to a flabbier arm, when I am overweight, but these are almost puffy. 

My lower legs are my vanity, I have nice calves, I think.  The rest of me is a good 50-70 pounds overweight, depending on which chart you use. 

I do hate the double chin, which is one reason I don't want to do photos and video right now.  Also, Youtube won't let me record directly off my webcam.  I have to record the video on my computer and then upload it, now.  I am sure I could figure it out but it's an added hassle. 

I WILL try to get some photos of us.  Maybe tomorrow, if you don't mind dark circles under our eyes. 

I try to keep ya'll happy. 

Wednesday, September 21, 2016

"I'm voting for Biscuit"

My Day started at 4 and didn't wrap up until after 2. 

I got up, took my shower, etc.  I got Ron ready to go to: Walmart.  I wanted to buy some jeans today.  The ones I have are uncomfortably tight and I wanted something I could squat, bend over, or breathe while wearing. 

We got there and I left Ron at the door.  Our driver told us the store had called the transit company and demanded people be loaded only at one door, and in front of the door at that.  Oh-kay.  It's the only store making these demands but it does get a lot of paratransit traffic. 

The store is near a couple of senior-living apartment complexes.  It is not uncommon to see a senior on one of those little motorized scooters trying to cross the very busy street near the store. 

I went to the jewelry department.  It was closed but I wanted to see if they still had titanium rings.  They do not.  Well, that answered one question. 

Next stop, jeans.  I will be sitting in an air conditioned room for days on end, listening to people drone on about the most boring things imaginable.  It astounds me how they can take something so simple, and interesting, vending - and turn it into a "make it stop" litany of boredom. 

Anyway, I want to look cute while I'm at it.  I would love to say my old jeans fit great but they're a little tight.  So, I needed new ones.  I'm not going to torture myself, and people looking at me, with tight jeans while I "try" to get my weight down.  I need to cut out the snacking, that's all.  When I do that I'm fine.  I live an active life and should be able to consume a fair amount of calories. 

Which reminds me, I should get my dinner going. 

Got that going. 

So, I looked for jeans.  I wanted black.  I wanted bootcut.  I wanted something that fit properly.  I found a pair of straight legs that would work, and then found a pair of bootcut for $13.  Both in black.  I was very happy.  I guess that's my birthday present from Walmart. 

I did my other shopping after that, browsed the Halloween candy, stuff like that.  I had left Ron by the bathroom.  He insisted he wanted to wait there even though he never usually does. 

I don't know if he used it or not. 

Ron complained all day about his foot bothering him, he was having "zaps" from neuropathy.  I told him it was probably related to the blackout and he agreed. 

He really thinks I can phone him, if he is having a blackout, and he will "straighten up".  I don't know how to tell him that just isn't true, that blackout Ron is a subhuman creature, incapable of speech, throwing cell phones on the floor with abandon. 

I didn't get into that with him.  I am hopefully learning to pick my battles, and arguing with him would be pointless.  I just said "Normally you're away from the phone" and left it at that. 

We got picked up to go home.  The driver didn't want to secure the wheelchair, I had to ask him to do it.  I understand not liking parts of your job but this is someone's mobility, if they can't use their mobility device they can't even get to the bathroom. 

And no one wants that. 

Yes, I am overprotective of Ron. 

Anyway, we had another pickup, in a "different area".  I had never been there and I was curious.  I noted two facts, one, it was near an extremely busy street, and would be terrible for cats.  I always look at apartments and ask "Could I live there?" 

She came out and opened Ron's door, stared at him for a minute, and went around to the other side.  She got in, complaining.  The next 20 minutes were some of the worst negativity I had heard in a long time.  The woman was awful.  She didn't have one positive or even neutral thing to say. 

Ron was begging her to stop.  She demanded to know who I was voting for in the election.  I'm white, which probably means Trump (to some), but I'm a woman, so that probably means Hilary (to some). 

I told her I didn't talk politics.  She kept pressing the issue.  Ron snickered because he knew what was coming. 

"I'm voting for my cat, Biscuit".  I could literally feel her gaping at me. 

"He's not on the ballot!" She insisted. 

"I'll write him in, then."  I smiled.  She got it. 

Ron finally persuaded her to stop and then she demanded the driver turn the radio up very loud.   She was very restless. 

"I wonder" I mused when we got home "If she knows she's bipolar".  She was clearly (to me) having a mixed episode (manic and depressed at the same time).  Depressed = negative talk.  Manic = couldn't shut up.  It is more complicated than that but that's the gist of it. 

Once you have your glasses, you can see, and it is pretty easy for a bipolar person to spot another person with the illness. 

I put my stuff away (not much, mainly just the jeans), and I have lost my receipt.  Let's hope the jeans don't fall apart in the wash. 

I do feel a little bad about the jeans because I know $13 stretch jeans in a plus size can only be manufactured in unethical conditions.  They probably don't use child labor, but I doubt the garment factory is a fun place to work.  However, I don't plan on wearing them for long (losing weight) so why buy something more expensive?  And how do I know ANYONE is running a fair-trade garment factory? 

Anyway, I changed my footwear, got my work keys and badge, and got Ron ready as well.  We left. 

We had a straight ride to work.  I noticed, while working, I didn't actually need a tremendous amount of time to do my work.  It was Ron.  I tried to help him as much as possible, demonstrating "Yes, I can do this" to my satisfaction. 

Ron still insists he can hold out until after Christmas. 

I finished it all up, even cleaned the coffee machine (ick), and helped Ron with the bottled vendor. 

He left before I did.  For some reason he didn't understand me when I said I was putting the carts away, and of course the stupid things wouldn't line up properly.  But I got them. 

I ran out, met Ron near the door, and we left. 

Ron called dispatch about our ride, only to be told we would have to wait a half hour.  In the hot sun.  I worried the brightness would trigger a migraine tomorrow. 

Happily, she showed up in a few minutes "I drive through my lunch".  I hope she doesn't burn out! 

We had a good ride home.  I went inside and took a short nap. 

I was so tired I even slept through Ron calling in the Dr Pepper order for Friday morning (yup, another 2 AM wakeup, on our anniversary no less).  The cats joined me. 

I slept in one position so long my knee went numb, but it resolved when I got up. 

Biscuit wanted his dinner right away but it was only 4 PM.  I was stern and told him no, but I fed him around 6. 

When I finish, I'm going to eat my dinner, take my pills (headaches all day today), and maybe look up titanium or tungsten rings online.  I am in the market, so to speak. 

I still have a little cash in my online account so I can get something if it strikes my fancy.  I just want a cute ring that says "I'm married", one I can wear at work, that I can pull off easily. 

I'm sure I'll find something. 

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

What will I do?

What if Ron breaks his neck one night during one of his blackouts? 

What will I do? 

Well, I've given it some thought. 

I have a pretty broad spectrum of job skills, and I can live cheaper than you because I take the bus instead of driving. 

I have worked in food service, retail, home health care, vending, accounting, general office work, etc.  I am certain God would lead me to the right job.  Worst case I would hook up with a home health agency or a temp agency. 

It would be nice to help a nice older lady with a couple of cats, or an older man with a small, friendly, dog.  Something like that. 

Or help run a restaurant, God knows it is very hard to find efficient and dependable help. 

You get the idea.  The other vendor is short an employee, he might very well take me. 

Don't worry about employment for me.  I'll be OK. 

We have insurance that will supposedly pay off the house if Ron dies, so there's that.  He doesn't have any other insurance.

Now, if I die I have a pretty decent life insurance, which Ron will need.  Ron, in my opinion, would be a lot more screwed if I died. 

He's just my boss, and husband.  I am his caregiver, wife, and employee.  No business, no caregiver, and no wife would have Ron in a very bad place. 

Sadly, that might be the "rock bottom" Dad talks about.  Not that I plan on dying any time soon, but you never know. 

The spanking end of things

I met the cutest, sweetest, little calico kitten today.  More later. 

Yesterday, without asking me, Ron made a trip to go out for breakfast this morning.  I was pretty annoyed when I saw that. 

I didn't say anything because I had mentioned, days ago, I would like to go out for breakfast.  I just didn't expect him to make the trip without asking. 

Considering everything, I didn't want to have yet another "discussion".  I figured, in the Great Scheme Of Things, it wouldn't matter in a day or even a year, so better to let it drop. 

However, it did mean I had to set my alarm for early. 

I slept OK but I woke up with a headache.  I took some aspirin and drank a Diet Mountain Dew.  I took a shower, washing my hair twice.  It was a greasy, tangled, nest.  Yuck. 

I got ready to go and we left.  We went to Carl's Junior.  We basically had to go because Ron woke up late. 

Paratransit had a lot of trouble with no-shows and late cancellations, so if you do either you get a "bad mark".  If you get 5 bad marks in a month you get a warning letter.  If you get 5 more in any other months of that year, you are suspended for 5 days.  It progresses. 

Ron is already over the limit, thanks to yesterday.  He had 3 bad marks just yesterday.  We can't afford any more. 

A late cancellation is less than 2 hours before the pickup.  All of this, I think, is very reasonable. 

It's just hard to be on the spanking end of it. 

I had a breakfast burger, Ron got something to go and elected to eat it at home. He has his reasons and I can't talk about that unless I get permission. 

I never did find the injury that caused yesterday's bleeding all over.  I guess it couldn't have been too bad. 

We had a pretty good time, and we had a timely ride home.  It was frustrating, though, that a quick breakfast turns into a 2.5 hour trip, total. 

I came home and took a nap.  I slept OK for a while. 

Then Ron called our driver to take me to the pet store.  We needed more cat food. 

I always keep a couple reserve bags, but those are for emergency.  I needed to buy 2 more bags, put the new bags into storage, and give Ron the "emergency" bags.  I like to rotate our stock and keep it fresh. 

Ron feeds the cats, by the way. 

I do wet food, he does dry. 

So, the guy picked me up and took me to the store.  He told me about his disability appeal at the VA. 

We got to the store and he had a look at the cats in cages waiting to be adopted.  One cage had 3 cats, way too tight.  It reminded me of the animal rights people complaining about the conditions for chickens.  I wouldn't have put 3 chickens in that space, much less 3 cats.  But I guess they felt they had to. 

The "owner died" cats looked pretty depressed.  I am praying they all find a good home. 

I got my cat food and got a box of treats.  My friend wanted to look at the doggie daycare dogs. 

We got stuck in line behind a woman with something in a box, buying cat food.  She mentioned she had just rescued a kitten. 

I had to see it.  It was an adorable calico.  I told her it was a calico, and a female, and the woman was impressed.  She was a "new" cat lady.  Her boyfriend had found it, in a box, being tortured by some kids. 

The cat seemed healthy, and was very sweet.  When I let her sniff me she rubbed against my finger and let me pet her, meowing sweetly.  When I got home Biscuit made a big point of scent-marking me where the other cat had been, and demanding petting.  I told him HE was the baby and I wasn't getting anyone else. 

The lady left and I paid.  Grain free cat food isn't cheap, let me tell you.  I was glad I had my "rewards" card. 

I bought 3 bags just to save a trip.  Things are going to get busy, one way or another, in the next couple months.  It will be great not to have to run out and buy cat food. 

I gave Ron the "old" cat food when I got home (it is still well within the freshness date) and put the "new" food in my storage area.  I collected the laundry, pre treated the stains, and put it on the soak cycle with some chlorine-free bleach.  Then I ran a load with it and some Tide. 

Ron is really hard on his clothes, but hopefully this will get the stains out. 

We work tomorrow, but have Thursday off.  Thursday is my birthday.  I don't know what I will do but I plan to have fun. 

Monday, September 19, 2016

"He couldn't work today"

I spent most of last night with a horrible migraine.  It persisted into today.

I also got to hear Ron having a blackout last night.  He basically got into my stuff and threw it around, tried to put my reusable shopping bags in the litter box, put a bag of trash in the toilet, etc. 

When it came time for work, it was apparent he would not be able to go.  I called our driver to give me a ride (I cannot ride paratransit by myself).  In the meantime, I tried to get Ron ready, to no avail. 

At one point he was screaming at me to take the brakes off, as he sat on the toilet.  He was trying to ride the toilet all over the house, thinking it was his wheelchair.  I put his hand on the wheelchair and told him "This is your wheelchair" and he shouted at me. 

At least, I say, he didn't think the wheelchair was a toilet. 

His alarm went off.  I thought that might wake him up.  No, it didn't.  He kept yelling "Fomo minush" I finally figured out he was saying "Four more minutes". 

When the driver came, I sent her away.  There was no point.  Ron was still in the house, mostly naked, in blood covered underwear (I never did figure out the location of the wound), shouting incoherently.  Paratransit can ban you for "disruptive behavior" so I didn't even try. 

When Ron found out she had left (I didn't tell him I had sent it away, just that his time had expired), he shouted "NO NO NO" at me.  My head didn't like that much. 

I took some Excedrin.  I ate a protein bar.  Ew.  It was the nasty vanilla one.  This was not shaping up to be a good Monday. 

I gave Biscuit and Baby Girl their num-num.  They were happy to see it.  I gave Torbie some treats.  I guess normally Ron does but he was too drunk. 

Ron was just generally obnoxious yelling and falling, getting back in the wheelchair, yelling some more, trying to get dressed (too late for that), etc.  I kept wishing for the driver to hurry up before Ron got REALLY ugly. 

He finally showed.  I left. 

I got to work and started.  I did an inventory of sodas (normally Ron's job), we needed 5 cases of canned.  I wrote them down. 

I took the carts out of the stockroom and got to work on snacks. I needed plain lays, but not Ruffles.  I needed hot chips, etc.  I forgot to do cookies in Snack #3 but it was mostly OK. 

I got everything else, though.  I was pretty busy for a while there.  When people asked about Ron (not many), I said "He couldn't work today".  It's true, he couldn't.  I just didn't say why. 

Since everyone knows about his back they probably assumed it was back-related. 

Ron called, drunk, wondering where I was.  I told him I was at work.  He hung up. 

He called me a couple more times.  He was sobering up.  He asked me to get him some takeout. 

Then he sent me a text that he was going to "go get drunk".  I didn't hear anything after that, even when I called. 

I figured (accurately) he had dropped his phone on the floor again. 

He had asked me to take our driver out to lunch and get him some takeout.  I think he really has a script in his head that I will have an affair with this man.  He is practically throwing me at the man. 

I'll just say he's not my type.  I don't like beards on anyone but Ron. 

Anyway, as requested, I took him out to lunch.  The guy really scored.  Not only did Ron pay the guy to get him alcohol, the blackout earned him $50 (in driving fees) plus a free lunch with a pretty woman! 

He took me home, I was dreading it.  I find that so sad.  No one should dread going home, ever, but I did.  I didn't say this to the driver. 

Sure enough, when I came home Ron had wrecked the front room again and was busy throwing pens on the floor.  I found toothpicks (I didn't even know we had toothpicks) all over the kitchen floor.  He was mumbling and incoherent, about as bad as when I had left, but not as loud. 

I decided to take a nap.  He woke me up a couple times banging around (he wrecked the front room again).  His phone rang, I turned it off.  Torbie slept by my head, Biscuit by my feet. 

We had a good time.  I slept a couple of hours until Ron woke me up, shouting.  He had gotten lost and needed to find the bathroom. 

When he's really drunk he has no idea where he is in the house.  I have to direct him.  Or face consequences.  Messy ones. 

So, I coaxed him into his wheelchair and got him in the bathroom.  About that time my bowels decided to gripe, I think over the protein bar.  I think I am intolerant of whey protein now.  I had to find my anti-gas pills and chew a couple.  Boy, those are nasty. 

He said he would "let" me sleep, but he lied.  He did not.  He kept making noise, yelling and such.  I finally confronted him directly "You said you would let me sleep". 

I think it's really sad that I even need to ASK for this. 

He went on the attack and said I should have called him in the morning before the ride left.   I reminded him he thought the toilet was a wheelchair.  He laughed.  I realized this was pointless and he was deflecting onto me.

It's HIS fault he was too drunk too work.  He's damned lucky I went in to cover.  Yes, by "covering" I "enabled" him but we cannot afford to lose the business. 

Ron is becoming less and less functional of an alcoholic.  I keep hoping something will wake him up, but my Dad says Ron needs to hit "rock bottom" before that will happen. 

I hate to see what that will entail. 

Ron's asleep now.  I'm going to try to get some sleep, too, while I can.  I don't know if he's going to have another blackout tonight or what. 

Sunday, September 18, 2016

Sorry for the short post

Nasty headache today.  I'll try to write a little, though. 

It is telling I have no appetite, that's a bad headache.