"He doesn't have a Heather"

I slept better last night and kept blowing up the dentist's phone number today.  I left a message on the voicemail.  I believe they were out of the office today and will call me back tomorrow. 

I got up, got us ready, went to work.  Work was pretty uneventful except Ron pulled a muscle and is doing his whole pain routine.  I did what I could for him. 

I was helping him into bed just now and I pulled up his pants as he got out of his wheelchair.  He fixes the belt very loose so they are always drooping.  I tell him it makes him look good in the ghetto.  I didn't think much of it, but I do it every time, and my aunt commented on it during our road trip "That guy" (a motorist parked, bent over his car, showing half his crack) "Doesn't have a Heather". 

I hope the man in my life always thinks his life is better with me in it. 

We stocked, came home.  Ron tried to talk the driver into dropping us at the vet but he said no.  They are paid well enough they don't want to risk losing their jobs.  We didn't fault him of course. 

So we came home, I got Ron settled.  I ate a couple of frozen burritos and took my morning pills.  I got some beans on my shirt right as Arturo came.  I just went out like that rather than make him wait. 

We got Biscuit!  He was very quiet, they said, but he started hollering when he heard my voice.  They put him in his box as I paid up (not bad), brought him out and we had a nice reunion.  Arturo came and took us home. 

I told Arturo if I was bad I would leave Biscuit in his box for a little once we got home, but of course I opened it right away and let him out.  I noticed he had a fair amount of food left, so I fed him wet and dry.  He was happy and purring, looked all over the house, etc. 

I took a nap.  Biscuit joined me for a little bit but left.  Mama Cat (!) got in my bed with Spotty and they laid down next to me, purring, for a while.  He tried to nurse and she wrestled with him instead and they ran off.  I had Torbie for a while. 

I slept pretty good but had a really strange nightmare about a cult that ate the souls of their children, and one of them was after Spotty.  I woke up pretty quick and happily saw Spotty was fine.  Ron was doing his pain routine. 

What does that mean for me?  He drinks a lot.  He wants Kratom, and then some more.  But I just read you would have to take almost a kilo at once to kill yourself.  We do a couple grams at a time (in capsules).  He wanted me to tape on some of the magnets (doc calls them "discs") from the doctor.  I did that.  He drank some more and went back to bed, had trouble getting in but managed with help. 

He has been getting more feeble and has said he wants to do "some exercises".  I have them, I have weight machines, etc.  I would love to see him do some leg extensions on my weight rack.  So I will help him with that when he feels better. 

I want to keep him performing as well as possible, and I think he could do better.  Is he going to walk again?  With that back?  No.  But he can be more vigorous. 

No more lifting cases of drinks at work, though.