Definitely a Monday

I didn't get enough sleep, and slept as late as I could.  I got up, brushed my teeth, fed the cats.  I got ready for work.  I ran the dryer right after I got up and finished Ron's load of clothes.  Then I hung them up for him so he could pick what he wanted for the day ahead. 

He got dressed.  I ate some breakfast and took my pills. 

We went to work.  Snacks really needed some work, I focused on that.  Ron kept bugging me to help him, which I did.  He wanted me to multi task and do snacks AND help him at the same time, which is impossible.  Either I leave snack machines open, and vulnerable to theft and tampering, or I have to stop dead, put everything down (my hands are always full when he "summons" me because I am, after all, working), close the tray, close the machine, which delays me getting to Ron and pisses him off. 

Doing both together is a losing proposition, but he wanted to do it that way today.  I had to tell him, on a couple of occasions, I couldn't help him because I was helping a customer, etc.  He didn't much like that. 

At any rate, I got it all stocked before we left.  Ron foolishly told the trip computer the appointment was 11:15, lying and adding more time to the original appointment time of 11.  That came back to bite him when they told him they wouldn't be there until 10:30.  Of course he was freaking out because it's his pain pills.  So he had to call a supervisor and explain the appointment was really 11. 

We got a ride to the office.  They wanted Ron to fill out the survey again.  He said he wouldn't.  I told him he wouldn't get his medicine if he didn't answer the questions.  He answered them. 

Then they took us back to an exam room and cheerfully informed us they would require a sample today.  Well, great.  Ron peed at work already.  He never drinks anywhere near enough water and is always chronically dehydrated.  I had a couple bottles of water on the back of the wheelchair, in case this happened.  I gave one to Ron and he drank it. 

He met with the doctor.  Drank another bottle of water.  "Tried" in the bathroom, for a good half hour, shouting for me every couple of minutes.  One of the employees gave me a pitying look.  He came out, drank a third bottle of water. 

They went to lunch.  Well, a couple of employees went out and brought back takeout.  They sat around eating while Ron and I sat in the exam room.  Ron was furious.  I was resigned. 

This is what happens when you don't drink enough water, in addition to harming yourself, when you give your body some water, it hangs onto it, assuming no more will be forthcoming for a long time.  I have tried to tell Ron this before.  He makes all sorts of excuses and justifications, ending in an "I don't really care if I die anyway" sort of attitude. 

He had to cancel his pickup.  Another half hour.  Finally he peed a little, but not enough.  I told him we needed more (I also noted the urine was very dark in color, indicating he was dehydrated).  He went back in the bathroom and peed a little more after another 10 minutes or so. 

Finally done.  He called and asked for a 'send back" on his pickup.  The driver came.  We were going to go home and then go to the computer guy. 

But I noticed Ron was making nausea noises in the back seat, behind me.  I had to driver pull over and Ron got some fresh air (his window would not go down).  It took a good 5 minutes before he felt ready to travel again.  Of course, he takes the motion sickness pill AFTER we pulled over and he almost vomited.  Supposed to take it at home, an hour before your first trip. 

Thank God he did not mess up the driver's cab.  I got a gallon ziplock for Ron and gave that to him.  If he had to get sick, he could get sick in that. 

We had a pretty uneventful rest of the ride home, but Ron was, I felt, showboating and making a big production out of groaning and complaining, then saying he was "fine".  Well, if you're fine then shut up! 

We finally got home.  We got in the house and Ron said we had to turn off the heater.  Fine.  Turn on his fan.  I did.  Turn it off.  I did.  He kept complaining he felt "hot" which he always says right before he vomits, that he is "hot".  He was wearing sweats.  I told him to take them off.  I gave him an ice bottle (he didn't request it but he didn't give it back, either).  Then he wanted to count the money we took out of the vending machine, today. 

I feel he is being rude.  He wants the computer today, he needs to get over to the store and give the man the old one.  Do that early, so he has plenty of time to do the work.  No, he wants to lie in bed, half naked, with his ice bottle, counting money he can't use to pay the computer tech (the man certainly does not want 100 packs of $1 bills!).  Especially since the report is due tomorrow.  Get it done now. 

But no, Ron wants to do it his way, then he can be all shocked and disappointed and angry that the guy couldn't fix it today. 

Ugh. 

But it gets better.  I heard some fighting cat noises and investigated.  Baby Girl ran off when I showed up.  Torbie was in Ron's wheelchair.  Ron was all upset that Torbie was being victimized and wanted me to stop it.  This is the guy who will literally shove Torbie out of his bed in hopes that Baby Girl will come and sleep with him.  You can't play favorites without repercussions.  Favor one cat over another, pretty soon you have dominance issues. 

We had to yell at Baby Girl a couple of times but she eventually got the message it was not OK to beat Torbie.  Torbie went into her cat house on my bed, a good spot, I think. 

And Ron is finally done and ready to go to the computer guy.