"I tried to move a case of bottled water"
I caught myself doing it again today, when I found myself on Amazon looking for caregiver books. I had to tell myself, "Heather, you've been taking care of Ron in some capacity, for 24 years. I think you have it, already."
You'd think. I did repurchase a copy of "The Comforts of Home" a caregiver guide. I remember it being helpful back after Ron's accident. I gave my copy away to a great-aunt when she had to do some caregiving.
Did I ever tell you about the time Ron's parents repossessed the commode chair? They loaned it to Ron. It had belonged to a dead auntie. Ron's mother had her own commode chair.
Ron used it for a while. Then, one day his dad came and said they needed it back. Why? For their other house in Louisiana, they didn't want to have to port her commode chair back and forth, so they took Ron's and left it in Louisiana where no one used it. Ron, in the meantime, was back on the bedpan until I got him a new commode chair (it took about a week to have one delivered).
I was so angry about that. I knew what it was, the other kids were angry Ron's Dad was "helping" us and wanted him to "take it back", which he quite literally did.
I'm not mad at them anymore, though. Why? They have modeled this behavior for their own loved ones. "This is how you treat someone who needs you".
Ron's sister has 3 boys. Hopefully they will treat her better than she treated her brother, and parents.
Ron's brother was actually kind of funny. Well, I thought so. He was disgusted at my love for Ron. I am very open about that.
So, one day, he came into the hospital in a really bad mood. He got me off to the side and angrily demanded if I was going to put Ron in a nursing home (I had been saying, hell, no, for weeks at this point). No, I replied, as nicely as I could. I don't think that's going to lead to a good outcome for Ron - you might as well kill him. Why are we even bothering to save him if we're just going to put him in a nursing home?
He started cursing and went outside for a smoke. Then he came back and shouted at me. "I asked my wife!" he yelled "If she would take care of me, like you are with Ron. She said NO! She'd put me in a nursing home!"
I told him I was sorry, I don't know why I did. It certainly wasn't my fault. My devotion had simply exposed her lack. Needless to say, things were rather awkward after that. So I know he is absolutely going to reap what he has sown.
I try not to be a bitch about that.
My Bible Promise books shipped the other day, they should be arriving pretty quick. I can take those to the hospital or hand them out to the drivers.
I still have to wonder, what is it about August and September? In 2008 he had that abscess the doctor wouldn't drain, I ended up doing it myself. She gave him Bactrim and penicillin on the same day and he ended up with neuropathy. Months trying to figure that out, I was truly stumped.
Last year, rectal bleeding, and lots of it. "Like" more than I pass during my period. Not surprisingly, he came back anemic. The hospital found a "thickening" in his colon but sent me home with paperwork for a "mass", which made me truly freak.
Two colonoscopies, he's as clean, and they don't know what's causing it, but here's some steroids if you'd like.
This year, back trouble, but "I only feel it in my legs". His legs are getting weaker, he has a lot of pain when he tries to stand, but he still doesn't want surgery.
Torbie slept with me last night. It was great. I didn't really sleep well, I kept waking up, but I got enough sleep to manage.
I took my shower, shaved my legs, and got dressed. I did my God Time later.
We went to work. Again, I helped Ron with all of the heavy lifting. He thinks I am being helpful. He doesn't realize I am doing all the heavy lifting - things are just easier.
"I tried" He told me "To move a case of bottled water into my lap." He paused "My back didn't like that". I bet!
That, I thought to myself, is why I am doing the heavy lifting. I don't want him to sever a nerve, which our primary doctor has said is a legitimate concern if he doesn't get surgery.
But tell Ron that.
So, we shall proceed to business as usual until I hear otherwise. My hospital bag is pretty well packed and ready to go.
I have a caregiver book on order, I can read that during his operation.
That's about all I can do.
Ron never complains. It must have been really bad.