Mom is trying to rest and I’m helping…

My doctor wonders why I laugh whenever he tells me to get a lot of rest.

It’s a man thing. They have no idea why a woman never gets the rest she needs.

Rest he says….yeah, I’ll do that when I win the lottery and can hire an army of maids to clean this house.

Rest he says… I’ll do that when I hit the lottery and can hire a cook.

Rest he says… I’ll do that when I have a doggie door and dog proof fences.

Rest he says… I’ll do that when The Curmudgeon has his own nurse and I no longer have to do it all for him.

And now…I am going to try to get some rest.

Day two medicated…feel worse.

So, I got a shot, antibiotics, and a cough syrup from the doctor today and all I did was go in for my regularly scheduled appointment.

Problem was I’ve had this tickle in my chest for a couple of weeks so naturally I mentioned it to him.

He took a listen to my lungs and said, “Yuck.”

The next thing I knew, one of his nurses gave me a shot and handed me a bottle pills and a bottle of cough syrup.

I go back in a month now.

One Curmudgeon in poor condition.

Going once…

Going twice…

What no bids?

None?

So, I’m still stuck with him…. Sigh.

I never know when the darkness will creep over me and drag me to the pit of despair.

Invariably, it comes upon me with a greater regularity than it used to do.

I look around and find everything shaded in gray and black. No brightness, no joy.

I’m a drudge and nothing more.

I took The Curmudgeon out To Raymour and Flanigan to pick out his replacement chair.

They had a wheelchair waiting for him.

It sure didn’t take him long to find one he liked. The color goes well with the other furniture too. It is bigger and better with a microfiber upholstery.  On sale, so we even have a $49.99 credit now.

It arrives sometime Tuesday-Thursday.

It all comes down to where the tuna is ‘manufactured’ for me.

After reading the labels and deciding that tuna packed in China, Ecuador, or any other place outside of the US is not for me, I found that there is one last company that still operates in the US.

I don’t care how fancy you package it or how fancy you flavor it. You sent our jobs elsewhere.

I now buy only Chicken of the Sea tuna. Thank you for not leaving the country to manufacture our food.

I really do not trust having my food processed and manufactured in countries where the cleanliness regulations are nowhere near as stringent as ours.

The Curmudgeon got his stitches out yesterday. All looks good there.

No more appointments for the rest of this month. Yippee, two whole days.

We begin October with my doctor appointment and go from there.

I need to go grocery shopping and I will be taking care of G’s cats while she’s on vacation.

I also need to squeeze a vet appointment in for Lucy–she needs her teeth cleaned and to see if they can do anything about her slightly leaky bladder, at night, when she’s sound asleep.

In truth it’s November that’s going to be the bitch. In the first week alone I have two appointments.

The Curmudgeon has two appointments the following week and one the week after that.

There are days where having a bit of quiet can make your entire week bearable.

Too bad quiet is a foreign concept around here.

And so we begin another week.

So fitting …

I swear this week took everything out of me.

I haven’t been this tired since The Curmudgeon was in the hospital.

Four days of 8:24 a.m. idiot phone calls, not getting back to a nice REM sleep afterwards, and the dogs deciding they wanted out and breakfasts. It all did me in.

There’s not enough coffee in the world.