There is ego and then there is ego…

After 20 days of restless nights of 2 to 5 hours of sleep, barely eating and sometimes going 24 hours or more without food, taking care of my husband in the hospital and then in the rehab hospital (they should have paid ME for doing the work of the CNA’s and aides), extreme worry, anxiety and tears (oh so many tears) and pushing for information and care for my husband, this is what I look like –

We escaped the rehab SNF aka nursing home on Friday (today is Saturday), been home for about 24 hours and my husband is doing better already. Me, oh maybe a little bit.

Last night we went to bed at 11pm and got up this morning at 8am. I only got up twice during the night to help him use the urinal. We facetimed with our daughter last night and I said I looked like shit-on-a-stick and she said “No, you look fine.”  She is a kind lady.

I feel as bad as I look but – we are home! So I can take a break and rest in comfort when I need to. Obviously since my husband can’t navigate on his own, I have to help him to move from bed to chair to bathroom and back. If he needs or wants anything I have to get it – I should have one of those step measuring thingies – I’m willing to bet over the last 20 days I’ve more than met the daily 10,000 steps goal.

I have nothing to prove so I go slowly, I rest as often as I need to, the dishes can wait until I have the energy. I do one thing at a time instead of my usual multi-tasking. I will not attend to paperwork until my brain is working again LOL

This morning the toilet adapter was delivered, I put that together and then discovered my husband would not be able to maneuver his walker into the bathroom, so I took the door off the bathroom and put it in the storage unit. Luckily our storage unit is only across the hall from our apartment.

I’m spending a small fortune on Amazon getting things to make him more comfortable and possibly easier for me. We already had a walker, shower chair and urinals from when he fractured his leg 4 years ago. I’m used to this but I’m 4 years older.

Plus – I now have to prepare 3 meals  a day – this is the most onerous of all the things I have to do. Empty his urinal – no problem. Wipe his butt – no problem. Bathe him, help him dress, fetch and serve – No Problem. Fix 3 meals a day – Big Problem! LOL

I’ve got more to tell you but it can wait for later.

Another Audio Post

Ok, the quality sucks and there is a lot of sniffling because I was crying a little and I was also laughing…And it is also a little self-serving but you know what I don’t care – it runs long – like 10 minutes, so if you really want to listen to it, open it, play it and then open another tab and check your email or something while you listen…

Things are tough right now

My husband suffered a seizure early around 12:30am Sunday morning (late Saturday night – however you might want to place the time). We spent 13 hours in the ER while they tried to find a bed. He got a bed around 3pm Sunday afternoon. He is severely debilitated. They still haven’t been able to do an MRI to see what brain damage there might be or what caused the seizure.  He is currently not functioning mentally at any kind of reasonable level.

I was at the hospital from 1am Sunday until 8pm Sunday, close to 48 hours without sleep, (we had just gone to bed Saturday night when the seizure happened),  went over 24 hours without food, I was back at the hospital Monday at 9am stayed until 7. It’s 8:30pm now on Monday night.

Just like last night I am so tired I am actually energized. But obviously I am spending all day at the hospital aggravating the staff and taking care of my husband.

So don’t look for me on the interwebz. I’ll leave comments open but I probably won’t be responding. I don’t have the bandwidth for it.


Just comics today –

I’ve often said “Agnes” was my alter ego – for example –

And of course there is “Pickles”. Old married folks all relate to Pickles, they are us. In Sunday’s paper this little bit of truth and reality appeared. I didn’t initially react to it but my husband insists it is JUST LIKE us…And thinking about it, these kinds of conversations occur on every subject. (” Oh, for God’s sake just pick something!”)

I was just thinking…

I usually do one big household chore a day, that’s all I can manage. Gone are the days when I would do a once-a-week clean sweep, it was usually Sunday because my husband and I worked the ole Monday-Friday, 9 to 5 grind and Sunday was it for cleaning and laundry.

Today my husband decided he felt well enough to vacuum. I had already done the dusting and wiping down 2 days ago and bathrooms 3 days ago so my only chore would be to wash the floors after he vacuumed.

While I was mopping I was thinking “What I need is a little old Sicilian woman to do my cleaning” Then I thought “Wait, I AM a little old Sicilian woman and I’m too old for this. I need a middle-aged Sicilian woman.”

I was telling my husband this and he said “I’m all for paying someone to clean. Why don’t you advertise for a middle-aged Sicilian woman?” I had to laugh at that and explain to him I couldn’t do that – very un-PC.  Besides – this isn’t South Philly.

Why do I want a Sicilian? Because those people are crazy clean freaks. (My husband said “Not all of them…?” “No” I said “obviously not but that’s their reputation.)

I grew up in a household where Sicilian mother was a crazy clean freak and Neapolitan father was a crazy neat freak. The arguments were priceless…

Father: Why is there a hair brush on top of the refrigerator?
Mother: They’re clean!
Father: But a hair brush doesn’t belong on the top of the refrigerator!
Mother: So what – I cleaned them!

I suppose as arguments go that is fairly benign (especially in our house) but it was loud and repeated often, only the specific items changing.

Now that I think of it – hair brushes were often found on top of the fridge. Considering my mother needed a step stool to reach the top of the fridge I wonder how they always wound up there – and why?

Now I have to go find my general purpose cleaning toothbrush. I noticed that the light switch thingy is really dirty.