The crash

I had a pretty quiet morning.  I slept in until 10.  I got up and talked to Ron, who was awake.  He said he only had a few pain pills left, and he was trying to save them. 

We both know, even though we see the pain doc tomorrow, it will take a couple of days to get the prescription processed..  So he'd better save it. 

He decided he would use vodka instead of pain meds, to mask his back pain, today. 

Now before I go further I want to thank you.  I know you do not support his drinking, but you don't let that affect your support of me.  You support me in the choices I've made - you don't like them, but you want me to be strong and send me good thoughts, prayers, whatever.  You let me know to stay strong as I battle. 

That is hard to find.  I value that tremendously.  You will find that on a lot of abused women websites, just let her know you are there for her.  I have that and I cherish that. 

I decided to take a nap before Ron had a blackout, and laid down.  Ron moaned a lot for a while, got in his wheelchair, went to the kitchen.   Where the vodka is kept.  Then he got himself back to bed and was quiet.  I had a dream for a while my family sent me away for a while to help another family. 

And then I heard the crash.  It's a distinctive sound, a body hitting the floor.  Not only did he hit the floor, he knocked over the chair he uses as a "valet" to store his clothes.  He also leans his head on the chair back when he uses his urinal.  I found him with his head next to the filthy litter box he refuses to change.  I won't change it either (cats have 4 good boxes, this is #5), it's his responsibility.  So he is lying on the floor next to a reeking litter box. 

It's OK to laugh.  I think it's ironic.  Now I had a headache.  I took something and got up. 

And Ron is still on the floor, an hour later, moaning occasionally.  It's tragic and very frustrating at the same time.  I have to go on the supposition the pain is really that bad.  I got the chair up off the floor because I didn't want the clothes to get dirty and wrinkled.  Hopefully, once Ron sobers up, he can get himself back into bed.  It's not the first time he has fallen out of bed. 

And no, he doesn't want bedrails.  I have asked. 

If he can't get himself into bed I will have to help him.  Pray I don't hurt my back doing so.  I am always careful but he can be dead weight at times.  Which is why I say leave him on the floor until he can get himself up. 

I just hope he gets up before I go to bed.  I would hate to fall asleep and have him wake me up, asking for help.  I would help him, though. 

I have to live with myself.  I don't want to see myself as a callous or cruel person. 

Although I still think it's funny his head is next to the litter box.  He must be having some bad dreams!