"It's not like we're going to sleep anyway"
"It's not like we're going to sleep anyway" I told him. He agreed. If we have a hard time falling asleep for a soda delivery at 5 AM, we will most certainly have trouble falling asleep, not to mention the nerves.
Ron, at least, will get a nice propofol nap during his operation, but I will be strung out and vibrating, sneaking Bibles and Bible Promise books onto end tables wherever I can in the waiting room and trying to remember God Is In Control.
I woke up exhausted today, and barely made it out the door in time. We went to Walmart. I wanted to do my shopping today.
I had a list of things, button down shirt for Ron, underwear for Ron (he wants new underwear for the hospital). He teased me about buying ladies' underwear for him. He told me not to worry about the shirt.
I got my shopping done, I got 3 six-packs of diet Mountain Dew, the drink of champions, and a six pack of caffeine free diet Coke, the drink of already-anxious lady in the waiting room during Ron's operation.
The last thing I need is to get ramped up on caffeine and aspartame during Ron's operation. I'll be a wreck and probably won't sleep for days. Nope nope noper.
I got drink mix for Ron, he likes the sugarfree stuff that I use. He wanted "other" flavors though. I differentiated them for him, one flavor has nothing on the container, another has one rubber band around the container, and the last flavor has two rubber bands. That way he can tell them apart.
A lot of times, living with a blind person is really not that difficult. You just have to look at things differently. All his pants are neutrals, as are most of his tops. The few "colors" he has are all tops, and will match any pair of pants he has. He puts braille labels on his prescriptions, and supplements. All his shoes are black, even his sandals.
Anyway, I had a productive shop. If I had access to my "own" vehicle I would have gone ahead and bought another storage box and 80 or so pounds of litter. See, Baby Girl had some issues with pooping out of the box, and throwing litter on the floor when she did poop in the box. It was frustrating.
I got some unscented litter and started filling it to a shallower level. That did the trick. Then I put the unscented litter into a storage box, 12-18 gallon size I think. Still at a shallow level.
I have noticed Baby Girl is attacking the other cats (hissing and swatting at them) when they use "her" box, so clearly I need to "make" another one. I don't want toilet issues and I don't want anyone attacked.
So I need more litter and a new box, to put in the front room. I will get rid of the shallow box I have up there (I have 5 boxes total, in a 900 square foot house), so I have two, big boxes, side by side, in the living room. Hopefully that will solve the problem.
I yell at her when I catch her, but then the innocent cat thinks I'm mad at them. And I don't want them to think I am angry at them for using the box, that's what they're supposed to do.
The funny thing, I never wanted kids, in part, because of the diaper issue. Yet I scoop poop and angst about providing a proper pooping environment. Kids, at least, get toilet trained and stop using the diaper (unless you are the rare unfortunate with a severely disabled child). Cats require a box for their entire lifetime. I have, in fact, been scooping boxes in one capacity or another for over 30 years now.
Anyway, I didn't get the litter. Ron and I are going back to Walmart on Sunday and I can get it then. Huh. That will be funny, my cat litter riding home with a bunch of Church Ladies. Paratransit has a crowd of them who only ride on Sundays, dressed up and ready to worship. They can get very cranky about arrival times, I hear.
I always thought a good church would just be happy you showed up, even if it was late. And a real church would certainly understand someone dependent on public transit, and maybe even arrange a ride for them.
We got picked up to come home. We would have about 40 minutes before our next ride. However, the driver was slow (he's just late every time we get him, and he takes his time driving anywhere). Then he got an "extra trip". Apparently paratransit felt it was more important to get the slow individual a straight trip from home to workshop, rather than honor our appointment time. It's not like the guy would get fired if he were late!
We ended up rushing around, me putting groceries into the freezer and changing out of my flip flops. We barely made our next pickup.
Our problems were compounded when Biscuit escaped into the garage, our exit. We enter the garage, shut the door to the house, open the garage door, and exit. That way the cats can't get out.
Unless Mr Naughty gets into the garage. I found him under Ron's other wheelchair and picked him up. He was purring as he shed white cat hair all over my black t-shirt.
I wore Biscuit's hair to work. It was an interesting look.
We didn't have a lot of work to do. We managed to get it all done and Ron had time to run change.
Then we went to the bank and made a deposit to cover Ron's share of the copay for his surgery. Ouch. Funny thing, though, it's only a couple hundred more than I paid to have that small tumor taken off of Torbie's foot.
After that we went to Denny's for dinner. I was pretty exhausted by this time, especially since I missed my nap. I drank a couple Diet Cokes.
When I got home I took my evening meds, of course. I laid down and tried to get a little nap but those Diet Cokes came back to haunt me (see why I'm so scared of caffeine on Surgery Day?). I tossed and turned, trying to fall asleep. I finally drowsed off for about half an hour.
When I got up I turned on my computer, alternating between computer and television. Torbie came in the computer room, meowing piteously. I sat down on the couch where I do my God Time and she got in my lap for a while. Then I did my God Time.
I thought I was too tired but I managed it in spite of myself.
Afterward, I spent a fair amount of time worrying about all the things that could go wrong with Ron's surgery, including him possibly dying. Spent some time working on that.
Then my new worry, Ron needs a Dr Pepper order on Friday morning. What if that's when they discharge Ron? That would be big trouble. I have to be there to get the delivery or we have no soda. I will/would have to recruit someone else to check him out and bring him home.
Ah, details. They're a killer. I will have to call my aunt tomorrow.