(no subject)
Am enjoying True Blood. Have ordered the DVDs and a set of paperbacks to be delivered to Miss P, who is, I understand, having difficulty adjusting to the heat in Charlotte. Well, they moved there in August. Probably the hottest time of year. Toad has bought his first books for school and he is in shock, they cost 1k.
Have had several days off; do not return to work until Thursday. Struggling with barely being functional. All my joints ache and I suspect I have some arthritis. Incidentally, aspirin works much better for this aching than vicodin, which is a good thing, as one vicodin a night is all I get and all I need, so I can sleep with RLS. But the struggling isn't anything to do with the joints (although that doesn't help); it's to do with depression. I went off Prozac in June and the doctor told me to come back if I have problems; I'm going to call tomorrow and see when I can get in. I'm barely able to function; it's August; I'm suppose to be baking cookies and freezing them for Solstice.
DH's symptoms are returning. I think he's just going to have to break down and take meds on a schedule. Anyway he's miserable.
DH says he's not going to take the day off for his dad's surgery, since he will be there working anyway. He has selected an anesthesiologist, a perfusionist, a respiratory therapist, and a team of nurses. I asked him if he had discussed this with his mother. "I thought you divorced my parents," he answered. I said, "No, I divorced your family. That's why I asked YOU if I should be there; I would be there for you. But I am a sweet and kind person and realize that the person who should be consulted about your presence is your mother. Would she find it supportive for you to be there?" And he said, "I've done everything I can, and I don't think it will be helpful to sit in a waiting room with her." And I said, "It would be helpful to me if I were sitting there waiting to hear about you having surgery, if the kids were with me. And what if you're tied up with a patient who's crumping and your dad has a problem? What would they do on the unit?" And he said, "They'd manage without me." And I said: "I know you. You'd be torn to shreds, if your dad needed you and a patient did too. It's not fair on the unit, if you have to drop everything and run to your father. And it's not fair on your mother, to have you gone. She will want you there. At least ask her." Then, as a wise wife, I dropped the subject, because I am right and we both know it.
Anyway. House is a pit from hell again- I meant to clean, but haven't been able to get it together enough to do so. I probably ought to pull out my Kim and Aggie dvds and watch them for a while.
Crashie is healing- I'm washing his head every couple of days now, and putting on the cortisone spray. It's vastly improved, but still itches- he comes up and rubs his head against my leg. Oh, I let him out tonight when DH got home from work- I tell the dogs, "Papa's home" and they head to the front door- I stood out there watching them and noticed a car driving by, in our quiet neighborhood, and it did a u-turn and came back and u-turned again and then the driver rolled down her window and called to us, "I just wanted to check out your big boy!" which made us laugh. If she had stopped, Crashie would have gone out and introduced himself and been friends.
All the wisteria is now climbing over the top of the arbor. We probably have another six weeks of growing here. I'm pleased. We will wind up with a shady patio for evenings.
Found a book at the local junque shoppe on the burning of Washington DC in 1814- looks good. My To Be Read pile never shrinks, it only grows.
Have had several days off; do not return to work until Thursday. Struggling with barely being functional. All my joints ache and I suspect I have some arthritis. Incidentally, aspirin works much better for this aching than vicodin, which is a good thing, as one vicodin a night is all I get and all I need, so I can sleep with RLS. But the struggling isn't anything to do with the joints (although that doesn't help); it's to do with depression. I went off Prozac in June and the doctor told me to come back if I have problems; I'm going to call tomorrow and see when I can get in. I'm barely able to function; it's August; I'm suppose to be baking cookies and freezing them for Solstice.
DH's symptoms are returning. I think he's just going to have to break down and take meds on a schedule. Anyway he's miserable.
DH says he's not going to take the day off for his dad's surgery, since he will be there working anyway. He has selected an anesthesiologist, a perfusionist, a respiratory therapist, and a team of nurses. I asked him if he had discussed this with his mother. "I thought you divorced my parents," he answered. I said, "No, I divorced your family. That's why I asked YOU if I should be there; I would be there for you. But I am a sweet and kind person and realize that the person who should be consulted about your presence is your mother. Would she find it supportive for you to be there?" And he said, "I've done everything I can, and I don't think it will be helpful to sit in a waiting room with her." And I said, "It would be helpful to me if I were sitting there waiting to hear about you having surgery, if the kids were with me. And what if you're tied up with a patient who's crumping and your dad has a problem? What would they do on the unit?" And he said, "They'd manage without me." And I said: "I know you. You'd be torn to shreds, if your dad needed you and a patient did too. It's not fair on the unit, if you have to drop everything and run to your father. And it's not fair on your mother, to have you gone. She will want you there. At least ask her." Then, as a wise wife, I dropped the subject, because I am right and we both know it.
Anyway. House is a pit from hell again- I meant to clean, but haven't been able to get it together enough to do so. I probably ought to pull out my Kim and Aggie dvds and watch them for a while.
Crashie is healing- I'm washing his head every couple of days now, and putting on the cortisone spray. It's vastly improved, but still itches- he comes up and rubs his head against my leg. Oh, I let him out tonight when DH got home from work- I tell the dogs, "Papa's home" and they head to the front door- I stood out there watching them and noticed a car driving by, in our quiet neighborhood, and it did a u-turn and came back and u-turned again and then the driver rolled down her window and called to us, "I just wanted to check out your big boy!" which made us laugh. If she had stopped, Crashie would have gone out and introduced himself and been friends.
All the wisteria is now climbing over the top of the arbor. We probably have another six weeks of growing here. I'm pleased. We will wind up with a shady patio for evenings.
Found a book at the local junque shoppe on the burning of Washington DC in 1814- looks good. My To Be Read pile never shrinks, it only grows.