I had a small burger patty and some blueberries with sour cream and a pinch of sweetener for lunch. That’s one of my favorite things 🙂 Plus, the doctor noticed I’d lost some weight. YAY! I decided the 55 lbs I put on since Steve’s stroke, has to go.
His blood work came back excellent. His PSA has stayed the same (prostate is enlarged) b/p and cholesterol are great. Diabetes is still controlled with diet. Steve’s fine except he decided to be a whiner and carry on about hating Rocky Mount again. How can he hate it? He never goes outside. He got all ticky and made me drop him off instead of coming with me on errands. Fine. I took my time.
It’s hard to always do everything alone. I love him but it’s not enough for either of us. I sure wish he’d decide to still LIVE. We are both too young to go on like this. I’m not going to stop doing what I can because he won’t join in. Unless he’s tired and strained, his mind is good. He has what I think of as EPISODES of difficulty now, which is so much better than before. Praise God for that improvement. His taking Prozac has helped ME more than I can say. I feel guilty for wanting MORE and I feel like he’s released our relationship except for the part of me that feeds him and cleans up.
99% of the time I manage by putting on my smile and thanking God and putting everything out of my mind. I can ‘busy work’ with the best. Still… sometimes I find myself kinda wishing I didn’t remember how we were. The dogs were all on his bed the other morning and I slid over so he could get in my bed, with me. Out of habit, he raised his arm and I moved against him and we laid like that for a couple of minutes then he rolled over saying his shoulder hurt. I got up and cried.
This message sat for several hours during which time I let myself get angry. He was complaining about our home and where it is, loudly, and I let him have it. I told him how I felt about US and ME and his own body not being enough to inspire him to walk and work on himself. I’m paying a lady to come in tomorrow and clean for me. She will add the shine to things I can’t manage; mostly dusting and floors.
Steve has and could, fold clothes for me and with me – He was getting his own coffee and putting his dishes into the sink and picking up his own trash, and he fed the dogs and washed their bowels. Now nothing. He won’t even put his peanut butter on bread. I feel eating out of the jar is gross. I know he’s weaker – he is back on his cane because he said his ankle was going to snap in two. He won’t take a Tylenol. Now he can’t walk well again. He moves only to the bathroom or between chairs – 8ft. I called BS on his not being able. He doesn’t want to be able. He just wants it to go away and be over. I get that, oh God how I get that. He finished his trivia game online and hung his head for a bit then went off to bed at 5:30. I wish I’d of bit my tongue.
I so seldom get angry. I rarely verbalize it. Today I did and then I felt instantly bad. He didn’t do this on purpose. He didn’t have a stroke because he wanted to. I want to raise my voice to the sky and scream. Why did this happen? We were nice people trying to build our lives and finish raising our kids. We were lovers and friends and confidants – and now WHAT???? I am so tired of being alone. Some days I do it better than others… today wasn’t one of those days.
Green Jean Granny 