"Mentally Defective"

Yesterday was pretty uneventful, we went to work, stocked, came home.

I woke up today with a nasty headache but the Excedrin helped.  I took a shower, Ron woke up.  We got dressed, and he got into the vodka.

He asked me a question and I replied.  He didn't like my tone of voice.  He asked if I was angry at him.

"No" I told him "I'm scared and sad that you think you go to the vodka first thing in the morning."

I got the chronic pain speech, vodka is the only thing that helps, I don't want him to hurt, do I?  I told him there are people known as doctors, who can write prescriptions, for real painkillers instead of Ron getting drunk every day in the name of "pain control".

He said he couldn't make an appointment because he didn't know when I'd go, which is bullshit.  I just told him yesterday I would go to the dentist with him whenever they could fit him in.

I hate when he uses me as an excuse to drink.  Nonetheless, I went to the taqueria with him.  As soon as we got to our table, Ron decided to order a beer.  I was not encouraged.

He said he couldn't eat anything because they didn't have an accessible bathroom, and he was worried about digestive issues.  That's his business.

I ate a quesadilla, some chips and hot sauce (they don't really serve a salsa, it is a served-warm hot sauce), and a couple of bacon and egg tacos.  Everything was very good.  I only dripped a little hot sauce on my shirt, which I pretreated when I got home.  The hot sauce helped my headache.

Ron ate maybe 2 chips, and one bite of a taco.

Things were fine.  He did play what I considered to be a mean prank on the waitress, who knows us pretty well.  He had a $100 bill.  He called her over and showed it to her, said he had "the tip", then gave her a $5.  I thought that was borderline cruel.  She was so excited when she thought she was getting $100.

When we got home (we had nice drivers both ways), Ron told me that while he had been drinking, he was fine, right?  I told him I will never say him drinking is fine.

He got "hurt" and railed at me for over an hour.  He finally concluded that, since I am "mentally defective", my opinion shouldn't matter anyway.  I didn't say anything, the only way I have found to deal with him is to be quiet and just let him get it all out of his system.

Biscuit got in my bed with me (my headache was back) and we took a nap.  I woke up pretty pissed and got dressed, started my blog.

Ron woke up and wanted to apologize.  I told him he should.  I told him, under no circumstances ever will I EVER tell him his drinking ANYTHING is OK.  Ever.  He knows that.

"You asking me, looks like a game" I told him.

I reiterated a few of his more memorable acts, choking me, beating me up, hurting himself, etc.  All the cleanups I have had to perform.  I asked him how, after going through all this, could I EVER think any amount of alcohol is OK?

He just said poor you and said he understood now, I would never approve of his drinking, anything, even if he "was" "fine".  I said that was right.

"Ask someone else" I told him.  I do think he is playing a game, he gets me to say drinking OK and then he has a blackout.

On his own, he decided to call our doctor and make an appointment.  I told him they have good antidepressants that make you sleepy (he says he wants to "tune out"), he will just have to give it a little while to work.

I think my Wellbutrin took about 3 weeks.  But, oh, the Wellbutrin headaches!  It's a good thing it works so well for me or I'd be getting something else.

Back to Ron.  So, we will have a doctor appointment this week, and a dentist on the 19th.  I really pray the dentist is cheap.  Ron does not take care of his teeth at all, and they are crumbling.  He just had a root canal about 6 months ago, now something on the other side.  Let's hope it is a $100 filling.

I even flat-out told Ron "If you're not going to take care of them why not get them pulled (when they go bad)?"  He didn't answer me.

What a day.  I'll let you know if I get any new developments.

Edit: found out my Dad has "mild" prostate cancer.  Crap.