Slow slide to hell

20-some years ago, I read a book "Contact, the first 4 minutes" that had some very good advice.  Basically, it said, don't "jump" people with bad news.  Give it at least 4 minutes after you start interacting, before you bring up negative issues. 

I took that to heart today.  I waited until Ron was getting ready, and told him he needed to change his pants.  "Why"?  I told him he had a blackout and threw protein powder all over himself, the counter, and the floor.  He didn't believe me, until he saw it. 

I told him he would be cleaning it up; and he would buy me a new jar of powder.  He agreed. 

I know Al-anon says "Don't get upset when they have a blackout; don't tell them what they did" but I call BS.  How is he ever going to get motivated to change unless he knows the irrationality of his blackouts?    He needs to know he is on a slow slide to hell. 

Of course, when a lot of people hear about my marriage, they want me to leave him.  Yes, that would be the "easy" thing; but that's not who I am. 

I have seldom done the easy thing.  I quit an "easy" office job to go work 16 hour days for Ron in his small business, I have continued to awaken at ungodly hours of 2-4 AM most days to help him to run the business.  I took home a blind man, with a broken leg, head injury, stroke, catheter, and sternal precautions because I couldn't see throwing him out because he was "broken".   I have seldom regretted either choice; and those are just 2 examples. 

I like to climb over obstacles.  I don't see myself as a quitter.  If I had been, I'd have killed myself years before my diagnosis.  I came very close to killing myself back in 2006.  When I tried to talk about it people didn't believe me.  That's one reason I started the blog, which is about 10 years old now.  I wanted people to know they're not alone.  At worst, I wanted people to see their lives could be worse!  [grin]

So, all that "settled", we went to work.  Work was pretty uneventful but things needed stocking.  I had enough time to do that.  I ate one of our egg salad sandwiches when I caught a minute to myself, and managed to do all the stocking. 

I got most of it done before we left.  I helped Ron a little but didn't go out of my way to make his life easier.  I guess you could say I normally go out of my way to make his life easier, in general, and especially at work.  Not today.  I just wasn't feeling it. 

I was tired and my gums hurt from the gingivitis.  I did have Ron call the dentist and schedule an appointment for me, next week, to get scraped.  That will not be fun; when they take that horrible tool and scrape off the plaque off your gumline.  I always bleed, and it hurts, and I hate it, which is why I haven't had it done in years, but it needs to be done so I will. 

Pain is a good motivator.  That would be a good blog title. 

We came home.  Ron said he would clean the kitchen so I took a nap.  I was exhausted.  Biscuit joined me and was very cute in the bed.  He is such a sweet boy, it's nearly impossible for me to believe someone just dumped him and left him to die in the woods. 

Yes, he found me, but odds were not high that he would find a loving person to adopt him.  Not in the woods, near where I have discovered, coyotes hang out.  They should have taken him to a rescue or a shelter, but I guess they figured he had better odds in the woods.  He was a house pet.  He had no idea how to forage; when I got him he was starving and underweight. 

I am proud to say I fattened him up pretty quickly, though, and the last time I had him weighed he was 14 pounds.  He's a good boy.  I am so glad I kept him. 

My gums started hurting again so I took an Aleve.  I need to lay off the aspirin before I get scraped or my mouth will look like a blood soaked horror movie. 

When I got up, I could tell Ron had spent a lot of time working on the kitchen, but it still needed to be mopped. 

Ron had made a trip to Burger King so we went.  I had the tiniest hamburger I have ever eaten in my life.  It was smaller than the "Happy Star" we used to sell at Carl's Junior and that was a small burger.  I ate some of Ron's chicken nuggets to supplement my meager meal. 

We came home and I checked my online stuff, whined about my gums on Facebook (got a million home remedies for gum trouble, too), and checked a message board where I sought advice for The Ron Problem.  A lot of them told me to leave him. 

I have a lot of reasons for staying.  Some I can't share.