I know, I had a great weekend. I should feel re-charged and re-energized. I did. That was earlier. Ron has to start Procrit injections again, he is perpetually constipated (lovely conversation), and Isaiah is having trouble catching on to things at school. Add them up and you have STRESS OVERLOAD.
I am not a nurse. I don't want to be a nurse. I didn't EVER want to be a nurse. I don't do bedpans. I don't do enemas. I don't do vomit. There are some things that are just absolutely out of my realm and I HATE, HATE, HATE, HATE that I feel like I MUST be responsible for someone else being able to poop. It's really hard to do a self-enema or suppositories. I know that. But - do I want to do it???? NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It doesn't matter that he is my spouse. I don't like it, I don't want any part of it, and it grosses me out.
I am not a teacher. I know that. I tried it once - taught kindergarten. I have had no training in teaching, I just stepped in to fill a need. I did an OK job but I wouldn't give myself any gold stars for anything but effort. I don't know how to get through to Isaiah when we're working on words. Sat - Mat - Sam - Tam - Am - At - Cat. Change one letter and he forgets what the rest of the sounds are that make the word. "Sat" does not become "Mat" when the S is replaced with an M. "Sam" does not become "Am" when the S is removed. He doesn't know what the new word sounds like, even after he's been told and shown. He is trying to memorize where on the sheet the word is located but when taken out of order, he doesn't know what they are. How do we help him with that? Is there no connection there or have we just not found the magic potion to make that connection?
We had a pest control company come today and spray for spiders. This morning I told Ron to ask about the military veteran discount. He called me while they were here and said that he wasn't old enough for senior discount (must be 65) so I asked if he'd mentioned the veteran discount. No, he forgot. I reminded him. Tonight, I asked him if they gave us the discount (Amy paid so she should have gotten the veteran's discount) and he said they had already left. No, they had not because I was on the phone with him and he said they were still here. So, that ticked me off. Why couldn't he ask them? Why - Why - Why??? Why not tell me the truth - he didn't ask as soon as he got off the phone and then he forgot.
He was supposed to call the doctor's office today to ask about the new medications. Tonight, I asked him if he called. About what, he says. Ugh! The medication! Oh, I'll call tomorrow...
We had spaghetti tonight for supper. Of course, Ron shook so badly that he spilled it all down his shirt and all over the table. I didn't get upset with him but it would have been nice if he had taken off his shirt before he ate. His stomach would have been a whole lot easier to clean the sauce off of.
The neurologist doesn't think he's bad enough "yet" - maybe he should come live with Ron for a while and see if he keeps his sanity. I'm sure mine is out the door. I should have known that taking a weekend off would totally screw up things when I came back. It's not that I believe one causes the other, but it does seem that whenever I start to relax and think I can handle things, I get the crap kicked out of me again.
I am just so totally ticked off right now that I really want to throw a big fit. Would that help? No. Would I feel better? I doubt it. But it would sure get rid of some pent-up anger. Am I really that mad at Ron or anyone else in particular? No, not at all. I'm angry at the world in general and life in particular.
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