My bed feels almost like heaven...
If you stand at the north side of Harris Hospital by the elevators there is this totally amazing view of the city. I spent a lot of time there tonight just watching the cars rush by on I-30 and enjoying the brightness of downtown. I kept thinking to myself how much I love my current lifestyle but I also arrived at the conclusion that if I had to give it up at some point and go back to the boonies for awhile for Robert's sake that I would. There's few people that I'd be willing to sacrifice the life I've built for myself, but he's definitely on the list.
I figured that maybe I should tell him my thoughts just incase he was worried about the impending future.I told him "If we get bad news from the doctor, I just want you to know that I'll be there fo you. My lease is up in October and I could always shack up in your spare room and commute to work if need be." His heartfelt response was "Gee. I think that if I don't have cancer already that your shitty cooking would surely give it to me." Then he laughed and I punched him in the gut and we both realized yet again on why we aren't together.
We had this weird moment when I had to hold his urinal for him. It was humbling and hilarious all at the same time for both of us.He kept telling me not to look at "Mr. Wiggly" but I kept staring and trying to remember the last time I encountered "Mr. Wiggly".
He's feeling better as he's being his normal adorable/butthole self after 4 rounds of Rocephin. Tomorrow he should be getting a catscan and hopefully we'll know something. I'd be relieved just to be told ANYTHING at all because not knowing is driving me fucking insane. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and saw a tired 1000 year old hagaragbag looking back at me. I should get some sleep or a facelift or something.
I figured that maybe I should tell him my thoughts just incase he was worried about the impending future.I told him "If we get bad news from the doctor, I just want you to know that I'll be there fo you. My lease is up in October and I could always shack up in your spare room and commute to work if need be." His heartfelt response was "Gee. I think that if I don't have cancer already that your shitty cooking would surely give it to me." Then he laughed and I punched him in the gut and we both realized yet again on why we aren't together.
We had this weird moment when I had to hold his urinal for him. It was humbling and hilarious all at the same time for both of us.He kept telling me not to look at "Mr. Wiggly" but I kept staring and trying to remember the last time I encountered "Mr. Wiggly".
He's feeling better as he's being his normal adorable/butthole self after 4 rounds of Rocephin. Tomorrow he should be getting a catscan and hopefully we'll know something. I'd be relieved just to be told ANYTHING at all because not knowing is driving me fucking insane. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and saw a tired 1000 year old hagaragbag looking back at me. I should get some sleep or a facelift or something.