Category Archives: Misc
Got my ears lowered yesterday. Yep, hair is short. Now I can start wearing all my wonderful ear cuffs again.
So glad I threw a roast in the crock pot so I didn’t have to worry about preparing dinner after my 4:30 appointment.
I’ve been watching the BBC’s Dr. Who marathon. I’m having a great time. I missed a few and now I am caught up.
Standing at the sink washing dishes and one idea after another runs through my head.
Sit down to write my blog post and each idea has fled like a mouse from a cat.
Oh, it’s going to be one of those days.
I often wish I could roll back the years and make a few changes.
I would have made sure all the crap I wanted done in this house was done before MS took its toll on The Curmudgeon. All those promises he made were worth nothing after he retired on disability.
Now I have to find someone who is willing to be a handyperson for us. There’s so much I cannot do and is way beyond what he can do these days.
Problem is, we can’t find a soul to do it.
If only I could find someone to clean the attic that the roofer wrecked and made a total mess of and redo all the insulation there that is falling down from his carelessness. That would be a start.
After which maybe I could begin to get things out of places they shouldn’t be stored and put them in the attic out of the way.
That would mean I’d have room to actually clean and put things away in all the other rooms.
Then there’s all that crap in the basement I need to have cleaned out so we can finally get the guys in to put that new oil tank in before the old one springs a major leak.
The interior painting we need done in every freaking room.
Hardscaping the yard too so the dogs track in less mud and can keep their claws trimmed. Raised beds are easier to weed and plant.
As you can tell it’s a mountain of things to do and only me to do it. That’s why it isn’t getting done. I’m jumping through hoops for The Curmudgeon’s care, running errands, and doing all the other stuff I do. I am far too overwhelmed with keeping up with the cooking and every day housework to do more.
My printer died. I ordered a new one and it arrived today.
Now I can finally catch up on all the things I need to print out. Like a medication list to take to the doctor I’m meeting with at the end of the month to see if she’s who I want to be my new primary doctor.
It’s a bit scary to be changing doctors after over 30 years with the same one. That’s why I decided to do a basic ‘interview’ appointment before I make a decision. Who knows, I might be seeing several doctors before I find the right one. Although I did a lot of research just to find this one.
I think after my present doctor’s illness and seizures he’s been more interested in The Curmudgeon’s health. Probably because his son also has MS but refuses to take any medications for it. He’s always curious about the medication The Curmudgeon takes.
However, I don’t think it’s good for my health when a few minutes into my appointment he begins to ask me about The Curmudgeon and ignores any questions I have about my health or derails my train of thought so I forget to ask questions. Yep, time for new doctor.
Yesterday I took The Curmudgeon to get a haircut. He’s been desperate to go. His truck won’t start (thank goodness) so he couldn’t drive himself. He is not allowed to drive my van. Ever.
Brought G along too so she could pick up some stuff she needed.
After G was through in the dollar store and bagel shop, we got The Curmudgeon from the salon and put him in the van to wait while we went into the grocery store.
Once home, after the groceries found their places, dogs kept me hopping until time to cook dinner and feed them rolled around.
Then, I finally had a chance to sit when I ate dinner. A wave of exhaustion hit me. Hard. As soon as the dishes were finished, I sat on the couch with Lucy and promptly fell asleep for an hour.
A thank you once in a while.
Please, would also be nice to hear more often, it makes one feel less like a servant.
I’m sick of you asking “what’s for dinner?” and not helping me out with an idea when I give you a list of things I could make. I am tired of making that decision day in and day out. Then having you complain that you didn’t want that.
You know you’ve been told frequently that you are difficult to hear (and not just by me) because you mumble or speak too quietly. Why don’t you turn down the sound on the TV and speak loud enough for everyone to hear you.
Because you’re afraid I won’t hear you if you fall or get sick again, I’ve slept on the couch for well over a year now. My back hurts.
When you fall, you insist I help get you up and you know you’ve injured my back enough times that…my back hurts.
You get mad at me when I call for help to get you up.
I clean as best as I can…but my back hurts.
I go to our family doctor, tell him my back hurts, and he asks how you are doing.
He doesn’t check my back. He doesn’t order x-rays or MRIs to see if there is damage. He quickly listens to my heart and my lungs. Asks if I need refills on my pills but ignores me when I tell him my back hurts.
Time for a new doctor who doesn’t know you. A doctor who sees me and not you when I am standing in front of him.
I have one friend who comes to see me. All the others have walked away. I can’t get away to make new friends either. You don’t like me to be gone for more than an hour. If I am gone longer, you look for any excuse to repeatedly call me on my cell phone (I knew I was going to regret getting it.
I am not a happy person anymore. I don’t laugh much. I do cry a lot.
I just live here, I don’t enjoy life.
Warmer weather, melting snow, and plenty of mud to track into the kitchen. The dogs are in their glory.
Too much to do this week to worry about things like mopping the kitchen floor, grocery shopping, taking G for her PT at 10 a.m., Lucy to the vet for a check up and shot Thursday evening, and hoping to squeeze in getting some laundry done somewhere in there.
I already started the week with getting my glasses fixed, picking up medication for Gavin, and a pharmacy run for The Curmudgeon.
Twisted my knee tripping over Gavin which put off everything I wanted to get done yesterday. Fun. Not.
Woke on my birthday with a lovely stomach virus.
If I wasn’t in the bathroom, all I wanted to do was sleep.
Still had to take dogs out every time I got comfortable.
Still had to do stuff for The Curmudgeon every single time I got comfortable.
Absolutely insisted I was NOT cooking dinner on my birthday…he ordered Chinese food. He gets points for that.
Still had to dish it up and do dishes afterwards.
No cake… as has been the norm for 40+ years.
At least there should have been cake…