A trip to the hematologist

I slept OK but woke up really tired.  I hit the snooze alarm a few times, much to Biscuit's disgust. 

But I'm getting ahead of myself.  Last night Torbie got in bed with me, cuddles, loving, very sweet.  What a great cat.  Then I went to sleep, woke up tired. 

I took my shower.  Ron fought me on his bath so he didn't get one.  If he wants to go to the doctor dirty that is his business.  I ate and took my antidepressant, even though, the last time I did, I got a migraine.  I helped Ron get dressed (he at least let me put clean clothes on him, freshened up a little, used deodorant), and we left. 

We had to drop another client off first, at an adult day care facility.  He was slow and could not be left alone, so the driver had to stay with him until the staff arrived to open the place.  I have mixed opinions about adult day care.  1.  They cost the taxpayers a lot of money (the group homes do, too), but 2.  I know, more than anyone, how much we caregivers need a break sometimes.  From what I have seen of both (group homes, and adult day programs), many times the caregivers are, well, not very caring.  Just what I've seen. 

There's only one place I'd send Ron, and it isn't far from the house. 

Anyway, we got him settled and off to the doctor.  We made our copay and went into the room.  Nurse Practitioner came in, gave me the results of all the testing (papers, and orally).  Ron is very deficient in B-12 and Folic acid.  Not surprising because he does not eat well, and takes no vitamins (he has started, though).  So he will need b-12 shots, which she says I can give him.  If I don't want to give them we can come in and do it that way.  More on that later. 

I have no problem giving him shots.  I check his blood sugar now and then, and have no problem doing that.  That is a lot more steps than giving someone a shot and involves blood.  If I can do that, I can give Ron a shot.  I'm not worried about that. 

She said Ron will need Folic Acid supplements, and probably will for the rest of his life, as he won't eat greens.  Ron was fine with that. 

He had some fat infiltration into his liver, which can/will lead to liver damage, but for now his liver is OK.  Other organs are fine (they didn't get a good view of his pancreas).  He does not have a factor 7 clotting disorder.  We didn't really discuss the clotting thing today, just the anemia.   His kidneys are making the right hormone to encourage his bone marrow to produce more blood cells. 

So he is basically fine, and will be even better once he gets those vitamins into him.  I will continue giving him the cheap multivitamin with iron (his iron was a little low but still in normal range), and the prescription stuff, while encouraging him to eat better, and he will be fine. 

That was all good.  We took a cab home. 

Ron decided to make some phone calls, and called a home care place.  I specifically asked him not to provide any personal information, he agreed.  He wanted a quote on how much it would cost to have someone come out and give him a shot, like they were a plumber. 

He did not understand they want to set up the billing, set up the account, have the social worker come out and determine what you need, try to soak you for as many services as possible, etc.  I kept telling him to hang up as he gave his:
Birthdate
Fact he had Medicare. 
Did not give Medicare number even though they asked for it. 
Home address
And phone number.  I was pretty upset.  I don't want a bunch of meddling social workers poking into our lives.  Ron and I had an argument when he hung up. 

He told me he saw me giving him a shot as this dreadful, terrible, thing, and he was trying to "save" me.  I didn't tell him, when he acts like that it would be a pleasure to jab him with something sharp!  I finally dropped it after he agreed to leave the subject alone, I was more than willing to give him shots (and it's not even that many, just once a week for a month and then once a month from then on). 

I took a nap.  Torbie joined me, got on me, purring, petting, etc.  She slept next to my head, my favorite! 

I woke up with a nasty headache.  Probably the antidepressant.  I would hate it, but it does work VERY well.  I haven't had a really bad depression in a very long time, and I can't remember the last time I was suicidal. 

I took some Excedrin.  Ron got up, said his back was killing him.  He had, by my count, four shots of vodka before he felt willing to leave the house. 

Vodka, of course, being the only thing that helps with the pain, he says, but he still seemed to be in a lot of pain.  He just didn't care as much.  Our ride came, the same guy we had to go to the doctor.  Ron could barely get into the vehicle, I thought he would have to ride in the back. 

We got to Denny's (Ron's idea, he planned it without telling me, last night).  The waiter asked what was wrong with Ron, I told him, "He's drunk".  Ron agreed.  He ate something, sobered up a little but not much.  I gave him his vitamin, he took it. 

I got my food, ate, and took my pills.  At one point, a couple months ago, Ron tried to equate his drinking with my medication.  That he "needed" the alcohol as much as I needed my medication.  I shot that down pretty fast, telling him I have a prescription for my stuff and can only get it from a pharmacy. 

My happiness at his good prognosis was pretty squashed by seeing him drunk like that.  It was just pathetic.  I don't even get angry any more, just resigned and sad.  He is enslaved. 

He kept talking about how, yes, I can't believe I'm going to share this - he kept saying "If [the doctor] tells me to stop drinking I'll kill myself".  I know he was being dramatic but it really illustrated the depth of his enslavement to this stuff. 

I thank God every day I never got a taste for alcohol or anything addictive.  I know I was protected, and I appreciate it with every breath.  I don't want to be that person. 

When Ron was admitted to the hospital, I kept kicking myself I didn't have my medication with me.  I really needed it to help keep things balanced, but that is a lot different from getting a "fix".  Taking my medication comes with NO high, just better thinking, fatigue, dry mouth, and other side effects. 

So now, when I take Ron to the doc I will bring my evening medication with me, in my little organizer.  I neglected to do that today, and I should have.  I will do better. 

Ron says if he can get some sort of pain pill, even a narcotic (terrible idea, that), he will stop drinking.  He will have to do that, if he wants to take pain pills.  I believe the pain pills will offer a better solution for his back, though. 

I don't believe his back can be "fixed".  He has severe arthritis, disc disease, basically there is nothing right going on in his back.  But he can still walk a little, if he stays bent over, and can get in and out of vehicles/chairs OK.  He has toilet control.  He does not want any more surgery and I agree.  The last surgery really screwed him up long term and did not help at all.  Cost us thousands of dollars.  Did I mention it didn't work?

So I had dinner with my very drunken husband.  I helped him clean up after he ate and put away his clothing protector.  Our ride came to go home. 

Ron had been very obnoxious all day, yelling at God aloud and telling truly filthy jokes.  He was pretty subdued for the ride home, kind of droopy.  We got home OK and he lost his shoe getting out of the vehicle.  I retrieved it for him and got him in the house.  Thankfully he just went back to his room and not into the kitchen to drink, like he normally does when he gets home. 

He will probably be "out" for hours now.  I am finishing up that load of laundry and then hanging it up, I will go to bed after that.  I'm pretty wiped out. 

I think I will bag up some candy for tomorrow so I can have that off my plate.  I hate to go out without candy for my drivers, and considering one of them was shot this week I want to give them a little spiritual food with the tracts I include, with the candy. 

Happily the bad guy who shot the driver, has been caught.  The driver is expected to make a full recovery, so that's great.  I feel bad that it happened to him, though. 

Now time to proof this rascal before I post it.  You'd be surprised, the errors I find, sometimes.