Home Again.

Ron's doing better today. He was actually able to put in a few hours at work without collapsing in exhaustion. We came home so he could take a nap before I go to Walmart.

I need more Lithium (!) and groceries. I need to do dishes, wash my bedding, housework, etc., but right now I'm blogging because it's fun. I need to take care of myself, too. To quote a very wise woman "I'm no good to him if I'm no good to me".

I did ask Ron if he liked having me there when he was in the hospital. What if he'd said "Oh, it didn't matter either way, you could have gone home"? Well, I'd know not to stay next time! Anyway, I asked and he said "Definitely". Good. It's nice to know he wants me around.

Does that mean I want a clingy, dependent husband? God, no! One of the sexiest things I find about Ron is his fierce independence and self-determination. He won't let anything stop him. Not even being hit by a pickup truck. I laugh when I recall the shock and disbelief that greeted my statement "Even in a wheelchair, he'll be back at work stocking his vending machines." He was. But not for long, oh, no, as soon as he could he retired the wheelchair. His walking isn't pretty but he's walking. Again, I find that immensely appealing. How lazy are we, the average Americans? We'd do anything to avoid walking a couple hundred yards and he's walking as much as he can. He hates it but he realizes he's got to "Use it or Lose it". He keeps me accountable, I don't take shortcuts anymore and I stay as fit as I can. I truly respect him.

When he's tired and weary, cold, and can't find the call button on the remote, it's good to know I'm there to push it for him. To ask for more pain medication, or just to ask a question. He loves the way I tuck him in, wrapping him up like a burrito. He's suffering enough, why add loneliness to the equation? There's something profoundly lonely about a hospital bed.

It's not so bad, I guess, when I'm there to gossip about the weight limits on the hospital beds and rattle off his medical history to anyone who asks. He doesn't like to think about all the damage he sustained in the accident, he'd rather focus on what he can do. I admire him for that but someone needs to know why he's got that huge scar on his chest and 5 chest tube drain scars. We wondered what God-forsaken things the cats were bringing home through the cat door and I ranted bitterly about the limited low-carb options in the cafeteria.

Thank God for Vanilla Cream Slim-Fast Low-Carb Diet Shakes. And peanuts. Since I ran out of groceries, we were supposed to go the day Ron went to the hospital, I've been eating a lot of peanuts.

I'm getting a little sick of them, honestly. I can hardly wait to get something else.