my husband, on hold

my grandparent's music fills 

our hallowed halls.

Adventures in caregiving.  That's what I'm branding covid as.  Last night at 1:30 a.m. my husband knocked over the urinal he uses.  So I was up, mopping and doing laundry, in the middle of the night.  This is not nearly as bad as picking him up from the floor the other day, after he fell trying to transfer on his own.  At least in the middle of the night, I'm not also negotiating a conference call and trying to remember if I put it on mute and also pretending life is not a huge mess.

I had to have another conversation with Bob about his healthcare provider.  While I deeply and honestly appreciate the fact that someone comes in to shower, dress, and get him ready for work - I am becoming a bit frazzled by the endless complaining.  I understand that he feels underpaid and stressed, but when a healthcare provider talks about it endlessly, I feel like I do when our youngest puts it out there that he's dumpster diving - like they expect me to jump in and offer help.  And don't get me wrong - I kinda feel like doing that, but it's not my place and certainly inappropriate.  

(as per the dumpster diving - i'm not cold hearted.  but if you're mentally ill and not taking your meds or doing treatment, and instead drinking steadily and doing drugs - i'm not sending you money or buying you food.  your bad choices do not translate into obligation on my end.  i'm here if he needs me, but i'm not a supplement income for his drinking and drug use.)

Today I'm celebrating things I am enjoying because of this plague:  healthier hair, softer skin, slightly later mornings, a relaxed and restful lifestyle.  Opportunities to support my community by volunteering - because I'm not exhausted from early mornings and long drives.  I'm feeling whole again.  It's a miracle.

And yet, scary to shop.  Line ups and shortages and it feeds an anxiety that previously only came at night, alone.  And while it's not insurmountable - quite frankly I can't get too stressed about the lack of lysol wipes when I have spray and cloths at home - it feels so surreal and out of place against everything I knew to be true six weeks ago.