up, but not at 'em

the day stretches out ahead

I am exhausted

My night went like this:  in bed around 9, asleep around 10.  The promise of a good seven or eight hours of sleep shattered at 11:48 when Bob calls for me, he needed to use the toilet.  Half in the dark, I put him in his sling, used the lift, put him on the toilet.  I laid down in bed and fell back into a doze, until he called again, finished.  Cleaned him up, thankful that he woke and that I didn't have to clean up a bed, and reverse engineered him back into bed.  

And I went back to bed, until just after 2, when he dropped his urinal on the floor.  Full, of course.  

And now, at nearly 7 in the morning - I've been up for an hour - dishes done, laundry folded, coffee made - Bob is getting ready with his PSW and is grumpy.  I went to help and he's argumentative and defensive and it's because he didn't sleep well.  

Seriously? 

I get it.  MS sucks.  And he's upset about last night.  But I'm trying my hardest to have a good attitude and clean up the floor and him and the house and not have it smell like an old age home, and he's grumpy and unfriendly with me.  I seriously feel like having a shower, getting dressed, and telling him to go fuck himself.

But I won't.  I'll blog.  I'll meditate and deep breathe and start my day and understand that this stupid disease is the enemy and not him.