"Good thoughts and wishes"
I woke up utterly exhausted. I was so tired I did my God Time later and stayed in bed as long as I possibly could.
I got dressed and we went to work.
I didn't have a lot to do for snacks, so I helped Ron as much as possible. He wanted to load the new soda machine and did some shuffling of drinks from one machine to another. I helped him with that, he was very appreciative.
He is generally very appreciative of things I do at work. At least these days.
I had to remind him a few times, he would have a hard time finding someone to replace me. The other vendor is having a hard time replacing one of their "quit" employees, and they've had months to search. If you can find someone willing to do the physical labor, are they technically inclined? Are they honest? Hard to find.
Anyway, he was OK at work. We do have a problem with Soda #2, it's not taking coins. We will have to have the repairman out again (we just had him out to remount a loose bill acceptor in our new machine). Fortunately he is "free" per our Dr Pepper contract, the one I mentioned the other day.
On our way out, Ron almost slammed the door on my hand. When I push the wheelchair, it doesn't have a guard on the wheels to protect my hand. What I mean, the handle is even with the wheel, so if something hits the wheel (a heavy glass door), it's going to hit my hand as well. I had to duck and dodge getting out.
I didn't think to mention it to Ron, it's just a quirk of the new wheelchair. It's still a good chair.
We came home and I took a nap. I heard some noise next door from #6, maybe Ron too. I woke up exhausted again.
Maybe I need to see if I am anemic. I'm taking a multivitamin with iron so I should be OK but who knows?
I might do that after Ron does his surgery, get a blood test.
Anyway, Ron wanted to go to Arby's so we did that. We had a pretty good time, until it was time to leave.
Ron held the door open as I pushed him through, then, about halfway through, slammed the door on my hand. I yelped.
You just slammed the door on my hand.
"Well, I didn't know!"
I'm not saying you did, I'm just saying it hurt. Please don't do that again.
"Stop attacking me!" and it has been going on for hours now.
He doesn't want to "talk", he wants to "monologue" about how our marriage is broken beyond repair and how maybe we should just get a divorce, it is clear that I hate him, I'm no treat myself, etc.
I did the rest of my God Time (I had done most of it before the trip to Arby's). He was still going. I turned on my computer and put some music on. He kept going.
He is finally done now but I am even more tired than before.
I understand he has narcissistic personality disorder, he expects everything to revolve around him. He is very sensitive to criticism. Or even the perception of criticism, and I have to accept there is something in his head that says I am "attacking" him when I told him he slammed the door on my hand.
He had a tantrum when I suggested he take a bath tonight. He is not clean.
No, he said, he won't take a bath. So tomorrow we will go to the hospital for preadmission and he will be dirty. Or, more likely, he will want to take a shower in the last 10 minutes before my aunt shows up to take us to the hospital, get distracted scrubbing dead skin off his feet, and have a tantrum because I am "rushing" him.
I'll remind you I suggested he take the bath tonight, but if he doesn't want it, he doesn't want it. I can't change that. I am not going to fight with him on this.
It may make me look "bad" as a caregiver but I have to pick my battles. It is more important to GET him to the hospital than it is to GET him there clean.
It would be very easy to become bitter, especially when Ron accused me of being too negative. This from a man who basically says "I wish I were dead, I hate living on Earth" all day long. I did laugh at him when he accused me of that, and repeated it back to him as a question "I'm too negative? Me?" He decided to back off.
He's frustrating, exasperating, and downright scary when he is having a blackout. I never know what he'll do next, and that is not a good thing. He mocks my need for a good night's sleep every night, as if it were something rare and unusual.
"Oh, don't wake you up! You'll get me!" What the heck?
I would think that a man who loved me, who cared about my physical and emotional health, would care enough to ensure I get a good night's sleep every night.
Instead he was mixing wine and Neurontin, after I already told him Neurontin causes blackouts when he drinks. He doesn't believe me, or doesn't care to believe me.
It is more important for him to drink. I understand that is the #1 priority these days, Ron has to have his drink. He is going to have a hard time in the hospital after his surgery, unless he gets his enabler (the guy who brings him alcohol, for pay), to smuggle something in. I'm going to talk to the man about that. Ron can't have alcohol, it could combine with the painkillers they are giving him and kill him.
And just the fact that I even need to think about these things! I have a blind man in a wheelchair, isn't that enough? Does he have to be a verbally abusive, narcissistic, alcoholic too?
Not feeling very hopeful today, but I know God can make this work and give me what I need to be a good caregiver at least.
But I'll take your prayers, if you pray. I'll even take "good thoughts and wishes" for the next couple weeks, because they are going to be hell.