I had a rough, exhausting weekend. It started with a double dose of Lactulose (laxative) for my hubby and a HUGE mess to clean up. I do mean HUGE! The sh!t hit the fan and went everywhere. It took me two days to recover from the exertion alone. Well, that's not entirely true. There was a grocery store run and taking the laundry to the drop off laundry service and bringing it back into the house (30 lbs with the extra blankets) added to it, but it was an extremely full weekend.
I had a passing thought of answering the disability question, but it flew out the window with my husband yelling "help" every half hour. Trying to put words together in complete sentences would have been charging up a steep hill with your car out of gas. It just wasn't happening. Even this blog almost didn't happen, but I sit here typing 10 WPM with 20mg of Baclofen, 16 mg of Zanaflex, 120 mg of Cymbalta, and 5 mg of Valium in my system.
For a late Wednesday night, I don't even know that this is coherent or not so pardon me, I'm going to bed. No wait, one more dose of morphine for my beloved, empty his urinals, get him a Coke and a bottle of water, and put in his eye drops for his Pink Eye he's developed, AND THEN go to sleep. I at least got the misspellings corrected.
Coherent! And {{{hugs}}} for the journey.
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