The Curmudgeon’s health was much improved when I went to see him yesterday.His doctor was quite thrilled with how his chest sounds.

I met the two gals who are trying to find a solution to his choking on food and drink problems–probably why the pneumonia started in the first place.

Now they are telling me they think the drooping of his face that night was from his high fever and infection and not a mini stroke.

It looks as though they will send him home today. However, that won’t be until late afternoon it seems since he’s scheduled for a test at one.

In the meantime I have to run my car to the dealer in the MORNING (I don’t do mornings!) and then get to the hospital for him.

So much for G and I running a couple of errands.

Phoned 911 around 2 a.m. and had them come get The Curmudgeon. His speech ranged from crazy to incoherent. His face sagged on one side. His legs were stiff and he couldn’t move when asked to do so. He put me into panic mode.

Around nine in the morning the hospital phoned me. The Curmudgeon had run a temperature of 105 degrees. They say pneumonia and a possible mini stroke.

I’ve had maybe three hours of sleep since yesterday. Too wired to do anything but doze on the couch with Lucy for short periods.

A friend and her husband are making a two-hour drive to get here later just to help me rearrange furniture so The Curmudgeon will have it easier and when EMS comes I don’t have to move a couch and a coffee table.

Now that’s a friend.

I love you Paula (the shark.)

I am so stressed out I can’t even keep my bill paying straight. I’m not sleeping well and watching him go down, down, down the well of secondary progressive MS is going to kill me before it does him.

I am a wreck from every little bump or thump I hear thinking he’s fallen again. I’ve run up and down stairs so many times I think my legs are going to fall off the next trip.

I’m not a nurse. I am so sick of emptying pee bottles, I did not choose to do this but this is all I do lately. I wait on him and run myself ragged.

Is there help out there? Not for us it seems.

This is not life. This is a slow death.

So the day began with The Curmudgeon having a great deal of difficulty walking. At one point I had to help lift him into his bed. Yep, there went my back again.

Then I had to leave him alone to go to my doctor appointment. Yes, I worry but I can’t cancel last-minute. I have no choice but to leave him alone.

I came home loaded with a new antibiotic and a sore arm from a shot. They did a quick throat culture to rule out strep. Strep is deadly for The Curmudgeon it makes his MS do an intense flare up. I don’t have strep. Whew.

I think it is time for a little….

Maybe if I were younger. If I didn’t have my health problems. Maybe then I could do this.

I don’t have the strength to watch him leave piece by piece. So much of who he was is already gone.

I cry every night after he goes to bed. Body wracking, red-nosed, snot running, tear-stained face, ugly cries. I’ve cried for years. Hard to believe the tears still pummel me. I wonder when they will stop. Will they ever stop?

I miss this guy

Had it all set up. G and I were going out to lunch, shopping for my exer-cycle, sending the old router back to Verizon, and getting me out of the house because I am ready to keel him.

Well, that didn’t happen.

I had to snag a neighbor to get him up off the floor when I got up. Lucky for him he’d just gone down and wasn’t there for hours. Then he informs me he has a pain management appointment and I have to take him.

He rushed me so much, that I left without my purse which meant I didn’t have my Kindle to keep me happy. Therefore, I was not a happy camper when I had to sit around and wait listening to an idiotic judge whatever the hell this one’s name was show on an old boxy tube TV with horrible sound.

For what they charge there you’d think they would at least put a decent TV in. Seriously, it looked like this one.

I guess three days was the limit, the charm, the best I could get.

Still sleeping deeply because of the muscle relaxants so I was jolted awake to hear The Curmudgeon’s voice on the phone.

This time he was not down at home. No, this time he was down at the CVS.

I needed to pick him up along with his truck. I was not into the idea of making two trips.

Thank goodness for G. It was G to the rescue! I called her and asked if she’d be willing to drive his truck home for me. She was.

Hooray! One trip.

We arrived to find a police car  just pulling in as we did. Thanks whoever called them, I really didn’t need to waste my time giving him all sorts of information.

G drove the truck with him in it home and I drove my van. Once home, I snagged some help from next door (thank you Kevin) to get The Curmudgeon inside and in his chair.

All this, I accomplished without the consumption of coffee.

After taking the dogs out, my reaction was:

This is one of those days where I truly do not feel like writing a post for this blog.

Beyond exhausted in mind, body, and soul. I don’t even want to talk to anyone.

The Curmudgeon makes my brain hurt.

There’s nothing quite so depressing as finding The Curmudgeon on the floor unable to move but a little.

Due to a wonderful wedding, there was no help forthcoming from next door.

Yep, threw my back out again along with doing some damage to my shoulder. And still could not get him up from the floor and into his chair.

Had to go searching to find a neighbor who could help. As luck would have it, Fred was home and came to help. I hate to ask him because he has enough on his plate.

Running away to live on a beach looks better every day.

Not much sleep.

Went to bed at my usual time only to have The Curmudgeon wake me a couple of hours later.

As a result, I spent the rest of the day in a stupor. That meant nothing got done. Every time I sat down, I felt so sleepy I thought I’d pass out.

I did pass out around 8 p.m. for a couple of hours after getting The Curmudgeon off of the floor for the second time of the day. He’s more ornery than ever and both times today refused to ‘let me’ go get a neighbor to help.

This, of course, results in me with a very sore back and enough anger to fill a void the size of the moon.