Yes, Ron is still drinking, up to about 8 ounces hard liquor, a day. He isn't bleeding - not yet.
I had to ditch a couple of people on Facebook. One did the "Medication makes you a shooter" routine. I've written enough on that, I find it absolutely enraging. You would NEVER say that to a diabetic or heart patient. I imagine some epileptics still get "the business" though, because of the nature of the seizures. Anyway, I was furious, confronted her, she got an attitude, so I dumped her. I would have agreed to disagree if she had taken the original post down.
The second one does what I find from some "hardcore" Christians. "Oh, Halloween is a devil holiday. I won't celebrate the devil!" Even if it means you can evangelize dozens of children? Really? I mentioned I have reached over 700 to date with Scripture Booklets and she got an attitude "Don't tell me...blah blah" Fine, screw it, delete. I wouldn't have had a problem if she'd agreed to disagree.
You'll notice a common theme: holier than thous telling me what to do.
I get a lot of traffic from other countries, sometimes I wonder if my colloquialisms are confusing to them. I hope not.
I am sleeping better since I switched my Haldol dosing. For whatever reason, it wakes me up. So, I take it in the morning.
Yesterday I got up at 4 AM, no shower or God Time - depressed. We went to Sam's Club, but the driver was early, so we ended up sitting outside the store 40 minutes before opening. Ron had his digital talking book machine:
Ron did that, and played classic rock, which found us singing "Carry on my Wayward Son" outside the store at 6:30 in the morning.
We got a couple cases each of water, and soda, I got some Halloween candy for the kids. We went to work. We had "quite a while" and ended up needing every second.
Which reminds me, I need to file the accounting report when Ron wakes up.
We went home, I took a short nap. NO matter how much I sleep, I am always tired. I accept that. I don't like it but I accept it.
We got up and went to a nearby diner. I got a make-your-own-omlette. Oh, screw it. Bite me, spellchecker.
We had a nice meal. Our waiter had terrible acne.
I don't think I told you, I had terrible acne as a teenager. It started about age 11. I remember the first time, my sister, of all people (I later cut off contact) grabbed my head one day and began poking at my skin in a painful manner. "You have a blackhead" she said accusingly.
I squawked and yelped in pain as she demanded I "sit still!" and pinched my skin painfully. I inherited my Dad's oily skin.
She finally "got it out" to her satisfaction, showed me a tiny amber cone on her fingertip, and read my stepmother the riot act on hygienic practices. My stepmother asked me what happened, I told her, she peered at my skin, and gently told me to use a warm washcloth on my skin every day to help "open the pores".
My skin became so bad I was prescribed Retin-A. I hated it, it made my skin peel and burn. I had pimples on my face, neck, chest, and back. People loved to pick at them.
Except my stepmother. She had nails, that would have hurt. But doctors, a boyfriend, etc.... odd.
If I could go back in time, I would advise her, and my younger self, to take a Vitamin A supplement. That's all I needed.
I didn't know that, so I got pretty good at managing them and the various stages. When I could pop them, when to leave it alone, which ones would never pop (cystic), etc. I have some acne scars on my cheekbones but nothing too bad. My worst scar is on my right chin, and I don't even remember it.
Ron of course didn't care, but by the time I hit my mid 20's the worst of it was past, especially when I began taking a Vitamin A supplement. I only wish I'd known sooner.
Anyway, the poor waiter so reminded me of my younger self. I was dying to suggest a Vitamin A supplement. I've decided to buy an extra, and give it to him with a note in the bag telling him about my former "problem" and how it helped.
That was the other thing I hated - EVERYONE telling me their remedy/solution. It was so bad "Santa" even left a bar of acne soap in my Christmas stocking every year. I want to be respectful.
He knows he has a problem.
That is the great thing about Ron, I could have a pimple the size of a quarter and he wouldn't know unless someone told him.
We went home, and had a great ride with one of my favorite (other) passengers and his wife, who is just as fun. I really like them.
I was exhausted when I got home, but we weren't done yet.
I put away the leftovers. Ron accidentally ran over Gravy with the walker, Gravy rolled back and attacked Ron's foot until he "backed off". Ron then offered him treats, which were eaten, and Gravy licked Ron's hand in forgiveness.
I got to thinking about Ron's ambulation. I think he could go to a support cane instead of the walker. If he doesn't "use it" he will "lose it".
So, I looked on Amazon and found him a cane. I got him the gray. We'll see how it works. I know Ron would like to be more independent, and aspects of walker use frustrate him. He's not ready for straight ambulation yet, but I think he'd do well with the cane.
We will find out in a few days. He doesn't know.
I went to bed.
We got up about the same time today, around 7 AM. That's "sleeping in" for me. Happily it's generally quiet when I am sleeping.
I did my shower and God Time, and decided to go to the thrift store at "the end of the line" for my local bus route. I did that.
I had about a 20 minute trip each way. Normally it is an exhaustive, long, process over an hour each way. I had fun. I got a couple books and a small toy cat, came back home.
Ron and I did a little text & chat. It was fun to just talk to him without him NEEDING something. Caregivers and parents will understand.
Not that I'm his mother! HA!
I took a short nap, some background noise so it was a little odd. One of the guys on my street is remodeling so it has been pretty loud every day. I still managed a little sleep.
Once I finish this post, I need to file the accounting report (Ron will get me the numbers) and then buy the bus tickets online.
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