Thursday, August 17, 2017

Consolation

Ron needs to realize, not everyone is consoled by his "Don't worry, the end of the world is coming soon" speech.  Agh.

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

This is probably TMI

I wasn't going to mention it.  After all, who wants to hear about  hemorrhoids?  Really? 

Some things, I figured, are too much.  So I kept silent and just grimaced.  I kept forgetting to buy some "remedies" and now I think I see why God allowed me to keep forgetting. 

They are pretty much better by now, but still, persistent.  So I bought some remedies today, suppositories (I told you, TMI) and some wipes.  I used the wipes, no real difference. 

The suppositories said to use them at night, which is a really sick thing to do.  I innocently inserted one and lay down in my bed.  It has a vasoconstrictor to make the veins calm down.  However, I was wracked with horrible cramps just a few minutes after insertion. 

I have to work tomorrow, yet I am plagued with Grade A, First Class, Food Poisoning Grade cramps.  I haven't felt like this since I tried to take a glucosamine with my lithium. 

I keep running to the bathroom, but nothing's coming out, just horrible cramps and pain.  It's dreadful. 

About the only positive thing I can find is that my nausea is gone.  I guess I only get one symptom per customer.  I need to be asleep but I doubt I can with these symptoms. 

Ugh. 

A lot about Biscuit

I slept OK.  It was sure nice to wake up with Torbie in the bed. 

I got up at 7:30 or so.  I was awake and ready to go.  I peed, brushed my teeth, fed Biscuit, and ate some breakfast. 

I took my shower.  Biscuit meowed at me while I was washing my hair, and I called his name sadly.  It's a little game I play "I'm dying in the shower, come and save me".  He came bouncing into the shower enclosure, ready to save me from the terrible showerhead, I said his name happily as he sat at the dry end of the tub, and he watched me for about half a minute before he left.  Then he laid on the tubmat right outside the shower enclosure until I dried myself off.  He's pretty cute. 

I got queasy after eating my banana and antidepressant.  That isn't going to work anymore?  Well, crap.  I like to have a morning routine, eating the same thing.  Kind of like my customers. 

We went to Walmart.  Ron called a cab because he didn't like the timing of the first trip, apparently we would have been there too long.  It was just a medication run so we didn't need that long. 

We got there and I found a kiddie cart.  I put Ron in it, then put the wheelchair into the cart.  Ron had his talking book machine, and a flash drive with music.  If he pops the flash drive in the USB port, he can turn the player into a "boom box".  Personally, I don't think he should. 

How would you feel if someone rode around with you, or sat in a store playing music you didn't like?  You wouldn't like it one bit.  You sure wouldn't like it if someone else did it, playing rap music or whatever. 

Anyway, Ron wants to be the center of attention, and get all kinds of praise for having "the good music".  Riding paratransit, that generally means playing old soul music, endlessly, because that's all the other clients and older drivers want to hear.  I get so sick of it, but he loves it when they start singing along with the music. 

He knows I don't like it, so he generally tries to restrain himself.  The problem is most of the drivers are younger and have no clue what he is playing.  They don't like it, they want the "young stuff".  Which Ron, of course, doesn't have, and wouldn't because he hates rap and the "new" soul. 

Anyway, today I got to ride him around in the kiddie cart, playing, of all things, country music.  The demographics of our store are about 45% Black, 45% Mexican, and 10% middle eastern (women in the getup, etc.). Pretty safe to say that everyone we encountered hated Ron's music.  A lot of customers frowned at him. 

I got the things I needed.  Mainly pepto, chewable nausea tablets (mixed results on that one), a serrated knife, etc.  I took my time looking at the vegetables, and finally decided to get some sweet potatoes.  The ready-to-eat celery had a sell by date of just a couple days, and I didn't want to deal with a whole bunch of celery.  Besides, I was queasy enough that the thought of celery was pretty revolting.  They had a sweet potato already wrapped in plastic, all ready to microwave.  I thought I could do that and read the directions, nuke for 7 minutes and then done.  It sounds like it will be a little tricky removing the wrapper because it will be so hot, though.  I also bought a plain sweet potato, I can try to cook it in my steamer.  That will probably be easier to do. 

I sure didn't want anything from the deli, or McDonald's, but I did get Ron some chicken strips from the deli. 

We checked out.  Ron paid me for his items.  We sat down for a while and I tried chewing some of the anti-nausea tablets.  They didn't work in 4 minutes, as advertised, but within 20 minutes I did feel appreciably better. 

We had a driver I like, taking us home.  He was very nice and helpful.  I sat up front and talked to him. 

I was glad I had brought my own bags, as we were getting another client who had her stuff in the regular plastic walmart bag.  If we had identical bags, it would have been easy to mix things up.  I started bringing my own bags when a woman's teenage son tried to make off with my bag of meat, one time.  $30 worth of meat.  I asked her to show me her receipt, because I had mine, and it showed I had paid for the meat.  She told him to give it back to me, but I never wanted that to happen again. 

We got dropped first, I really only had the one bag so not a big deal to get it into the house.  I didn't have anything to refrigerate. 

I felt daring enough to try eating some natural peanut butter, and sunflower seeds, and take my medication.  Oddly enough, it worked.  I took a nap. 

I had a post-traumatic nightmare.  Ugh.  I hate those.  I sure didn't want to sleep after that, even though I had Torbie in my bed again.  She's so much fun. 

The really old cats get very cuddly.  I probably only have a few more years with her, but I will enjoy her.  And yes, I love Biscuit just as much, I just wish he would (ow!) stop digging his claws into my leg when he wants dinner. 

Anyway, I got up, did some computer, watched some TV.  I plan to go to bed early tonight so I get a good night's sleep.  I am drinking a lot of pepto and plan to skip dinner tonight. 

Plus, I have to feed Biscuit in 8 minutes.  He's very punctual. 

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

I am never eating broiled seafood....

Oh, I am so queasy.  

First of all, I slept pretty well last night, and slept in as late as I could: 7:30 AM.  I guess I really am an early bird. 

I got up, took my shower, weighed, down almost 10 pounds total; and did my God Time.  It had been a while. 

I got dressed because we were going out.  Ron wanted to go to the fish restaurant.  I knew they had broiled options so I figured I would make that work.  So far, just about everything paleo has gotten along with my medication, except for the infamous sausage patty incident. 

We had a good ride to the restaurant.  We sat down, far away from the speaker.  Ron doesn't like their music.  Ron ordered fried catfish and shrimp, I ordered the broiled platter.  It has scallops, shrimp, and two fish fillets. 

Our food came and we started eating.  My food was good.  They even gave me a little cup of melted garlic butter, and I was dunking my food in it.  I didn't eat the seasoned rice, I just picked the baby shrimp out of it and ate them.  When I finished, I felt very pleased with myself and I even took a photo.  Then I took my medication. 

I was alright at first.  We had to wait about a half hour on our ride, then we had to wait on our ride to take us home.  I got home, feeling mildly nauseous.  That's not unusual after taking lithium + friends so I didn't think much of it.  However, it got worse.  And worse. 

I finally took some pepto and lay down.  Torbie joined me.  I managed a little nap but not much.  It was nice to have Torbie (she slept with me last night, too). 

I got up.  I was really sick.  I am never eating broiled seafood with my medication again.  Ever.  UGH. 

At one point today Ron was telling me to pet Torbie, he wanted me to get her out of his bed so he could be with Baby Girl.  Ron is very conflicted about the two cats.  Torbie loves him unconditionally, but Ron wants Baby Girl.  So oftentimes he ends up pushing Torbie away to make room for Baby Girl, who never even shows up. 

He kept telling me to stop neglecting her, etc.  Then he said I was just like my mother, neglecting my baby.  Why?  Because you were too conflicted to push Torbie on the floor, when you wanted to?  I called him out on that.  I said it was a cheap, ugly, shot.  I asked him if he would like me to start comparing him to his parents (he wouldn't).  He shut up right quick and even apologized. 

I even called him manipulative and boy that hit a nerve.  He spent the next 10 minutes vehemently denying it.  Only the truth hurts. 

So, in a minute, I will go get some Tums from Ron and try those for my nausea.  It's almost 5, I ate lunch at 12, it should be digested by now. 

Worst case I can always eat a banana. 

Lunch

Stayed on plan, just ate the seafood.

Monday, August 14, 2017

"Punished"

I didn't sleep well last night.  I got up and dragged myself into the shower, shaved my legs, etc.  I got ready for work. 

Our ride came around 6 AM, we had another pickup.  We went into another subdivision, somewhat in the direction of work, and picked up a "slow" client in a wheelchair.  She had about the mental capacity of a 6 month old baby, babbling nonsense, yelling, throwing her shoes, etc.  It was very distracting. 

Ron kept asking me how she ended up this way.  I took a sharp look at her and told Ron (later) she probably had Fetal Alcohol Syndrome.  FAS is the leading cause of mental deficits.  He said something about the birth mother being "punished" by having to care for her (the other client was at least 20 years old). 

Not really, I replied.  Most FAS victims end up raised by someone other than the birth mother.  So an innocent family member, stepmother, grandmother, aunt, or older sibling is "punished". 

Does that mean I am being "punished" by "having" to take care of Ron?  I don't think so.  I signed up for this.  I didn't know he would become an alcoholic or verbally abusive, but I had a pretty good inkling about the rest of it.  I figured he would deteriorate physically. 

Punished?  I don't think so. 

At any rate, we got to work and I didn't have a whole lot to do.  I stocked what I could (I didn't have any Snickers Almond, and I needed them), helped Ron, etc.  I got the sandwiches and stocked them.  I did pastry. 

We were ready a little early so we went out.  Then we discovered our ride wasn't coming for another 20 minutes.  Ugh.  It was hot and miserable.  I put Ron under the tree. 

We had a little of excitement when the driver arrived, she came through the gate (she pushed the button and apparently was buzzed in).  That's a big NO!   We loaded quickly and left. 

She was confused about the traffic changes but took a route that satisfied her and kept her away from the closures.  We got home. 

I took a nap.  I didn't have any cats but Torbie ran across the bed a few times. 

I had a pretty good nap and woke up before the alarm.  I got ready to go, we were going to Walmart.  I needed to put in my refills and get a few other things (bananas). 

Our ride was late.  I am starting to think we cannot have an on-time afternoon trip.  The ride was so late, they sent "Protection".  Remember the song about the cleanup woman?  That's what protection does, picks up the trips that are far behind schedule, or the original driver cannot perform it.  He was nice, young, and very new.  He did a good job, though.  He got Ron onboard safely, secured the wheelchair, checked our "papers", etc. 

Ron arranged for me to get an hour at Walmart.  I got my bananas, and banana chips.  I got some no-sugar added, chunky, natural, peanut butter.  I had some sunflower butter (made from the seeds, of course), but it had added sugar.  I am trying to avoid added sugars. 

I bought a case of cat food and some things for Ron.  I was done. 

I checked out.  Everything cost about $40.  I found Ron.  I was pretty hungry, so I opened up my bag of pork rinds.  I shared them with Ron, and, when I was done, I gave them to him.  I only got the pork rinds because I was hungry and wanted a "legal" snack. 

Later on, I caught Ron feeding pork rinds to Baby Girl.  She likes to lick the flavoring off the rind, and bite it.  Yuck. 

Hopefully she won't get sick. 

We came home with a nice African driver.  He was teasing us because we know a bad word in Arabic.  He was fun. 

We got home and I took everything in the house.  I put away the butter and Ron's drink (Diet Dr Pepper).  I put the bananas away.  I stored the cat food in the stack of cat food I have on the table, much to Biscuit's delight. 

I got on the computer for a while, watched Intervention.  I am always so happy when they get clean but some of the "before" stories run a little too close to home.  Speaking of, there's Ron drinking in the kitchen.

Biscuit got agitated, wanting his dinner.  I feed him at either 6 or 6:30 PM.  If I feed him too early he will eat it all up and get hungry in the middle of the night.  Ron got upset and started calling me names because I wouldn't feed Biscuit. 

I told Ron I had to clean the litter boxes, then I would feed Biscuit.  That wasn't good enough for Ron, more name calling and verbal abuse.  I cleaned the boxes.  I mean, I had to, anyway. 

I washed my hands (of course!) and fed the cats.  In the meantime Ron had gone into his bedroom and was attempting to feed the cats treats.  Food trumps treats, for the cats.  I "won".  Everyone ate their fill and was happy. 

I turned off Intervention.  I was pretty depressed by now.  I mean, at least I had taken care of the cats, some dry food had gotten into the water when Baby Girl head-butted my hand with the scoop of food, so I had changed that out in addition to changing the litter and feeding them. 

But Ron was just hateful and mean.  I told him he could feed the cats if he wanted, but he doesn't want to mess with the wet food.  He just thought he could abuse me into doing what he wanted. 

He is still taking Tylenol with alcohol, so I imagine his liver is a hot mess right now.  I have said everything I can on the subject, but he won't hear it.  I think one some level he wants to die. 

And I'm just plogging through my day to day, trying to keep my head above the stormy seas of depression.  It's exhausting.  Add worry for/about Ron into the equation and it get really toxic.  Add all that into being on the heels of Ron verbally abusing me, it's a real mess. 

But I try not to have pity parties.  His grandfather was a notorious alcoholic and died in his 90's, so who's to say how long Ron might make it? 

Ugh.  It is my Friday night, I have two days off in a row.  Tomorrow we just get something to eat, that's all. 

Wednesday I pick up my prescriptions. 

Sunday, August 13, 2017

"Can I help you?"

Today I woke up about 7:30.  I had set my alarm for 8:30. 

I got up, took my shower, and got on the computer for a while.  We had a pickup to go to Arby's. 

Of course it was late.   Ron got predictably upset, then called and "fixed" it. 

We got there pretty quick and went in.  I looked at the menu board.  No salads on the menu.  I suspected as much, and had come prepared. 

I ordered a plain roast beef, half a pound of meat.  I ordered Ron a Beef and Cheddar with bacon on it, he likes those.  He ordered fries.  The cashier asked me if I wanted fries, I said I couldn't eat potatoes on my diet.  Then he asked if I wanted hash browns.  I regretfully told him no. 

I got Ron to the table and he sat down.  He mainly focused on eating his fries when they came.  I ate my food with a fork, I took the top bun off and ate my way through the meat until I reached the bottom bun. 

The cashier came over to see if "Everything was alright?", probably due to my bizarre method of eating, I told him I was fine and continued eating.  I took my pills, they were OK with the roast beef.  Good. 

Now, it wasn't perfect because the meat is processed.  Better yet would have been a big chunk of roasted meat in it's own juices.  But Ron wants to eat his stuff and I try to accommodate him, too. 

So, we ate.  Our ride home came pretty soon and we left.  Ron brought his sandwich with him. 

Oh, I forgot to mention, I am down 2.8 pounds today.  I'm not in this for weight loss as my primary goal, but it is nice to see some weight coming off. 

We got home and I took a nap.  I slept pretty well considering.  I did run out of water.  I keep a large container of water on my bedside table and drink it as I wake up, thirsty. 

I need to make up another jug before I go to bed, which needs to be pretty soon.  I need to be in bed in an hour, at the latest, I have an early wakeup for work tomorrow. 

But I am also going to Walmart after work.  I'm finding a problem with the bananas.  I could buy the protein bars weeks in advance, store them, and eat them as desired.  The bananas only keep a couple days in my house, no matter how green the bunch.  So I have to keep running back to the store.  It's a little tiring. 

It also makes me a little nervous, if we have an event that disrupts transportation here what can I eat for breakfast? 

I'm sure not doing sausage patties again. 

Consolation

Ron needs to realize, not everyone is consoled by his "Don't worry, the end of the world is coming soon" speech.  Agh.