This past weekend was horrible! Friday I saw my therapist for the last time until after my next scheduled Botox series. It was pitiful session. For almost a month now the Botox was wearing out. I had canceled six therapy sessions before Friday's session because of it. I had 15 degrees of movement in my arm, elbow, and wrist. That's not 15 degrees less motion but only 15 degrees of extension total. Still, that's an improvement. But my fingers surprisingly enough, will still extend. That is a definite improvement over the fingernails cutting into my palm, tight fisted I was having.
Saturday, I felt like warmed over leftovers. Not the good kind like soup or spaghetti sauce, but the kind that makes you want to gag just looking at it. But there were things that had to be done and I'm the only one that can do it. Being in constant pain with the spasticity, waking every two to four hours to give my dear hubby morphine, and poor sleep in between, I awoke not in the greatest of condition or mood.
I put my AFO and soaked tennis shoes on and walk naked into the living room where my hubby is. One major advantage to being an empty nester. He had spilled his Coke Zero. The blanket, sheets and him were soaked through. I pulled out a clean set and changed his bed. Then I got him a clean flannel shirt on and briefs after I bathed the sweet stuff off of him. Mind you I'm still naked except for my tennis shoes and my AFO, and the house is a chilly 65 degree because of the arctic blast. Between his heater and the oxygen condenser the temp around his bed was 75 degrees, but on naked flesh it was chilly work. I got him another Coke and headed for my shower asking him, "Please don't spill this one until I'm done."
I take my shower. The hot water was heavenly. It also loosened up some tight muscles that were cramping. I was feeling sheepish for chastising him for spilling his drink. It's not like he did it on purpose. But as a semi paraplegic caregiver, sometimes your feelings of being overwhelms you. I donned my clean granny underwear with a fresh pad and hobble into the bedroom. It's just easier getting dressed in bed.
|Gratuitous boob shot <lol>|
I went out to get the mail. There it was, my response from my SSI application. DENIED! My hubby's retirement put us over the limit to qualify. Half of his retirement check goes to pay for our medical insurance and the other half buys our drugs, but we make too much money.
This was the final straw. I sat on the end of my hubby's bed and cried. Not just a stream of tears, but gut wrenching sobs. I was beyond frustrated. My hubby, blessed his damaged heart, just handed me tissues and rubbed my arm saying, "It will be okay. It will work out."
A couple of hours pass with me cleaning the kitchen, feeding him, the rabbits, the Guinea pig (I grow fodder for them), all the medicines were passed out his and mine, and I finally felt human enough to venture out the front door to face the public. My little heater in my office that does double duty between my office and my bedroom died. It is Murphy's Law in action today.
I had to go to the Tractor Supply to get my little pets some special hay that they like. There wasn't a speck left in the last bale. Even fresh pulled grass and weeds didn't interest them. Well, it did but not as much as the hay does. They get quite vocal if they don't have it. At least the Guinea pig is. The bunnies just hop from level to level nonstop, frantically sticking their little noses through the cage every time I passed by.
The next stop was groceries, ugh! Luckily, it was only 19 items. Staples mostly and a
Home again with my prizes. I kicked the plastic wrapped bale of hay into the house and where it's suppose to be. A small bale weighs 40 lbs. I didn't need a back muscle strain to add to my misery. My hubby was still sleeping. I spent an hour out and about. I thanked the neighbor for sitting with him and brought the rest of the things inside. I'm thankful that the stores have some really courteous employees that will manhandle my big stuff in and out of the stores for me. It keeps me coming back to them.
But that can wait until Monday. I'm pooped.
Oh did I mention that I had to move an arm chair to get to the plug for the heater? I over extended and kissed the carpet (rug burned lips)...but that's another story.