Painkillers and cat food

Ron's drunk again and bothering me, so if I sound a little distracted that's why. 

I woke up at 7.  I had set my alarm for 6.  I got up and took my shower, went to Walmart with Ron. 

Ron complained because one of the cart-pushers is broken and makes loud beeping noises.  He didn't want to ride in the kiddie cart, but he didn't want to stay where he was.  He had brought his walker so I couldn't move him easily. 

He is still having a hard time admitting he is a "wheelchair" and believes, falsely, he gets "worse" trips if he is in a wheelchair.  They can't contract a private yellow cab to give him a ride, that's all, but the trips are honestly about the same. 

I had to push the cart and drag him from one door to the other, so he could have his "peace".  I bought my stuff, mainly some painkillers and cat food.   For once, I did not have a headache today. 

I finished up and left.  Ron kept telling me to make a deposit at my bank, but I have what I feel is "enough" money in my account. 

Ron's choice to ride in a walker bit us big time when the driver showed up.  He had a grandmother/granddaughter combo who must have weighed 900 pounds between the two of them.  The cab was STUFFED.  Ron and I had to wedge in there.  I almost had a panic attack when my seatbelt locked up on my neck, cutting off my air supply.  I ended up pulling it away from my neck with my fingers. 

Thank God we were straight. 

One thing I don't understand, lazy drivers who do not want to unfold the ramp to put things away in the back.  They want to do it the hard way, reaching things in over the top of the ramp.  It is 10 times harder, brutal on their backs, and a big inconvenience for me.  He tried to put a heavy bag on top of a light one, something that wouldn't have happened if I had assisted him, the way I normally do, putting the bags in the back. 

I was glad I hadn't bought much.  I had considered buying some cat litter but didn't. Thank God.  Two six packs of soda and some cat food were trouble enough.  Although maybe the driver would have unfolded the ramp, when faced with a 40# box of cat litter. 

We got home and went inside.  I put away my things (not much, I really only got cat food, drink mix, and toilet paper) and took a nap. 

I woke up from my nap around 1.  The yard guys came a little while later.  He likes chocolate candy. 

The yard has been properly harvested/subdued.  It looks much better now. 

Pretty bad when strange neighbors are banging on my door....

The cats came out of hiding and I washed Ron's sheet.  It was covered in blood from his blackout the other week.  He is terrible about "letting" me wash his sheets, I finally got him in a jolly drunk.  "Sure, whatever you want". 

I remain hopeful about bathing him before too long.  His hair is pretty greasy. 

I had a clean sheet for him so I took the one off and installed the other, as I'd learned from the nurse aides at the hospital after Ron's accident.  OK, it looked good. 

Then I let him back.  He was impressed with my speed.  He began drinking and made several drunken phone calls that made me cringe.  I have to remember he is only embarrassing himself.  I can choose whether or not to be embarrassed. 

I sound like a lousy self help book but it's true.  Yes, the first instinct is shame when Ron is on the phone with people, slurring away, or wonders aloud why his old friends don't call anymore. 

I'm not sure how much I buy the whole "It's an illness" thing, but it's a problem for him.  It's HIS problem.  My job is just keeping my stuff together as best I can. 

So, I cleaned the litter box.  I washed the bloody sheet after lint-rolling it to remove Torbie's cat hair.  We'll see what the washer does with that.  Now, that's a good challenge for old Sparky, let me tell you. Set in blood stains. 

Worst case, the sheet only cost $5, I can get another.  I'll keep you posted.  The sheet is navy and a poly-cotton blend. 

I took out garbage, although I haven't taken out the trash can.  It is still sitting near my front door. 

Ron's transfer chair (extra-narrow wheelchair) should be arriving shortly and then he can get into the bathroom safely, at least until he has the surgery and doesn't need it anymore.  Then it can go out in the garage and live with the other adaptive equipment. 

I'm still debating how much to tell Doc tomorrow.  I will at least mention that Ron is having blackouts.  If Ron doesn't take a shower it will be apparent Ron also suffers from depression.  Doc isn't stupid.  I will share enough, in the context of, "During one of his last blackouts, Ron really scared the crap out of me when he fell off his walker and hit his head...." 

Or would that result in some sort of referral I don't want?  Agh.  I am so confused. 

Anyway, positive side, we meet my aunt for lunch tomorrow after I see Doc.