Sunday, January 7, 2018

Sunday

Today wasn't as bad as I feared. 

I slept late, until about 8:30, and Ron woke up about when I did.  I did some computer-ing and Ron turned on some music.  He played music, louder than I would have liked, for a couple of hours, including during my God Time.  He decided he liked "Welcome to the Jungle" by Guns & Roses.  I found that encouraging.  He is more a soul or classic rock man. 

I told him I would be taking a nap after I did up my pills.  Doing up my pills takes oh, at least 20 minutes or so.  I take a lot of pills and putting 8 prescriptions a day + supplements takes quite a while.  He turned it off before I finished. 

Pills done up, I took a nap.  When I got up I called my friend from work, the one who tripped over a cat at his house, (his own cat), fell down a flight of stairs, and broke both his arms.  He wasn't home.  I'll try him again later. 

Then I watched a little TV and ate a bowl of corn pops, taking my medication.  Every damned day.  When I talked to my stepmother yesterday, she asked me to please always take my medication, she knows I will take it, but to please stay motivated (basically).  I told her every day, but I wanted to tell her every damned day, but Dad was on the line and he doesn't like swearing. 

Biscuit slept with me during my nap, and last night, which was nice.  He's a good boy.  Ron hasn't really said anything about the accident and I didn't want to remind him, so I didn't either.  "Hey, remember, 15 years ago today your life went to hell?"  And mine. 

The dryer buzzer went off, but the clothes aren't dry.  Ron had a very heavy pair of jeans that wasn't ready yet. 

Better to dry it tonight.  Drying things in the morning before work doesn't work.  I forget, sleep in, and don't turn the dryer on.  Then Ron wakes up yelling for his pants and they're wet.  We did that dance a few times before I figured out I need to dry clothes at night. 

Ron is picky about how his clothes are hung up, so often I just drape them over the back of a chair in his room.  I hang up my clothes in my closet, even the t-shirts.  I don't like to wear wrinkled tshirts. 

Just waiting for my clothes to finish drying.  Tomorrow will be a busy day, and I see Doc on Tuesday. 

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

You are doing so much just to cope with everything. I think part of Ron is just overwhelmed with trying to hard. After a few years of this you are both worn out. I think that just taking care of you both and the house things would be overwhelming. I know you don't think disability is necessary, but maybe pride is in the way. You need to focus on taking care of you both, and giving Ron a mental break from work. Taking care of a disabled person is a full time job, plus you need to focus on your health needs, and I don't think you should be overwhelmed all the time. Why do you feel you both aren't disabled care? It would be cheaper medically, functionally, physically, and healthier. Please consider it, for both of you. Ron is tired, and you are pushing him to do things he is overwhelmed with.

Spankadoo said...

Wow do I not agree with the previous comments I believe Ron takes pure advantage of and isolates you with his alcoholism it has zero to do with anything you do .by wanting to work outside the home you are still participating in the community they both want to work . Heather am I correct you guys work because you enjoy your independence and brining in money. Ron would drink more if they were both home full time I believe .the former comments sound like victim blaming .

Heather Knits said...

Ron's happy with what he does. He likes being independent. The last thing he wants is a buttwiper.

One reason I am still working with Ron is that I do enjoy the independence. I don't have a lot of oversight, I don't have to play politics, and the dress code can't be beat.

I can't talk a lot about disability for me - but I can say it isn't a pride issue. It's another issue, one I can't get into. If I could, and when I can, I will share. But I have a good reason for not applying for it.