It's All About You!

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

The last time John took the garbage out, he fell on the black ice.  Of course, he blames it on the garbage, but I blame Mother Nature. Taking the garbage out is John’s big job in our household and let’s just say the walk down the driveway to the garbage cans takes less time than the nagging I have to do to get it done.  Even my mom asks me when I am going to give up the nagging and just do it myself, but I can be a determined woman.   I keep hoping that someday when he sees that overfull garbage can in our kitchen, instead of just pushing the garbage down and forcing the lid back on, he will put two and two together and realize that if he just lifts it up and out and walks it down to the trash there won’t be any more lengthy “I’ve had it!” discussions.  So, I am pretty sure John was preoccupied trying to remember where the garbage cans were located when he went belly up. We think he broke a rib or ribs, but we can’t be sure, since he won’t go to the doctor.  I have nagged to no avail, but all he says is there is nothing they can do and all the doctor will say is, “here is your very large bill and some aspirin.”  I figure at this point all I can do is nag, because like I keep telling John, “the Lord helps those who help themselves.”

Please keep my home clean, John!

On top of all that, I have had a head cold/sinus infection.  Let me just say before the well wishes and sympathy start pouring in, that I am going to be just fine. Yes, it has been a struggle taking care of a grumpy patient when I am not feeling all that great, but I am managing.  Like I tell my family all the time, “you know me, I don’t like to complain.”  Of course the last time I said it, someone in my family said, “who are you and where is my mom?” and everybody who was not me laughed. One day he bit my head off when he sneezed and said he didn’t appreciate me making a joke about how badly it hurt.  All I had said was, “Gesundheit,” to him and had consoled Fudge, who is deathly afraid of sneezes. 

This really is Fudge after somebody sneezes!

The day I can’t say to my own dog, “Fudgie, did daddy scare you with that loud sneeze and subsequent moaning?” is the day I don’t want to have dogs.  I understand that pain can make you lash out at loved ones, so I took the high road and told him I had heard if he held a pillow over his ribs really tightly when he sneezed it would hurt less to sneeze.  I also offered to hold one over his face to muffle the sound so poor Fudge wouldn’t get so scared at the loud noise and I assured him I wasn’t joking, only trying to find a solution.  

 

I am also not accusing anybody of anything or concocting a wild conspiracy theory like I get accused of regularly, but I have had a bad head cold and every time I mention I am sick, my family always comes down with something, too.  They deny it, but I feel as if the mere mention of a scratchy throat or a stuffed up nose has them online searching for something that tops my illness, so they don’t have to pick up any slack while I recover.  I am not saying John threw himself on the ice deliberately because that would make me sound plumb crazy, so just forget I even brought it up, but the timing has gotten me thinking.  I could have the Bubonic Plague and I would still wake up to dirty dishes, plenty of laundry, and empty dog water and food dishes.  Oh, and the surprise they can both generate when I say something like, “seriously, no one could empty the dishwasher to help out?” never ceases to amaze me.  They must work up revolving excuses while I am hacking my lungs out and preoccupied.   I didn’t want to disturb your nap with the sound of dishes clanging….I didn’t know if you wanted me to cook something or wait for you….I swear I just filled the dog’s water dish.  How was I supposed to know they drank it all?  Meanwhile, if they are sick, I am not going to lie and say I am the perfect nurse, but I do try.  Let’s just say I am somewhere between Florence Nightingale and Nurse Ratched.  I am certainly not going to resort to shock therapy to get anyone to take a pill but I may say, “Sweetie, can I get you anything else before I take an extra large swig of NyQuil? Oh, and please know that I am perfectly fine with you suffering in silence the rest of the day.”

 

Of course, I am not asking for sympathy, but since John has fallen, I have been doing double and triple duty.   He cannot walk either dog, which leaves me the sole walker.  The temperatures are frigid and the only plus side to being outside with a cold is your snot freezes and stops your nose from running.  Taking the garbage out is out for him now and probably forever; because he watches a lot of medical shows and I just bet anyone who can diagnose himself with broken ribs can also come up with PTSD (The T stands for trash), too.   Oh, and speaking of hardship, he has been sitting in his easy chair a lot since he fell and watching stupid stuff on the TV. Every time it is time for one of my Modern Family reruns, he has already settled in to watch The Rifleman.  Seriously, if he wants to watch someone spin a rifle around on his/her finger, I would be happy to find the BB gun out in the garage and give it a whirl, especially if I thought it would scare him enough to hand over the remote.  Dance, John, dance, and toss the remote control this way!    I have also been cooking more so he can rest at home and not have to go out and I am exhausted.  I even got my mini pie maker out of the basement and dusted it off and made him mini chicken pot pies and mini apple pies and guess who had to do the clean up. 

 

The biggest sacrifice I have made since he fell is I have switched bedrooms.  I tried to sleep in our bedroom in case he needed me in the middle of the night, but when he wouldn’t comply with the “no snoring, no moaning” ban I implemented on day three, he left me no choice but to move to the spare bedroom.  Normally, when John snores I tell him to roll over, but since he couldn’t, it was like sleeping with Foghorn Leghorn, or what I imagine anyone with the first name of Foghorn might sound like at night.  I had some other ideas first that involved clothespins, staples, and pillows, but in the end I didn’t want to go to jail, so I moved to the spare room.  The funny thing is the only one the switch seemed hard on was Fudge.  I put a couple of pillows under the sheets on my side of the bed and I don’t even think John knew I was gone for the first couple of days, but for me, it was like a vacation. Truly, if someone put a piece of chocolate on the pillow for me at night, I would have thought I was at the Hilton or on a cruise ship. 

The room was quiet.  The bed was incredibly comfortable and the covers were all mine. I could get up in the middle of the night and turn the light on, play on my computer, or watch a movie.  Other than Fudge pacing by the door, or laying out front of the doorway pleading with me to move back to the other room so she could settle, it was a much-needed retreat. I also figured out rather quickly that if I just rolled over and looked in the opposite direction, I could easily ignore Fudge and carry on in my new retreat.

 

My dogs are programmed, I guess, and Vern continued right by my door and onto the master bedroom if he needed to go out or at least that is what I was told in the morning, because I never heard him.  I told John to yell for me if Vern had to go out in the middle of the night, but he never did and I thought about getting him a whistle to blow, but then I decided that might hurt his ribs.  Fudge would try to stay with me for a bit, but it just seemed as if she couldn’t stand it after a while and couldn’t understand why her world had been turned upside down.  She would finally give up and go into our room, but I don’t think she slept well.  Vern would jump in bed with me in the morning and snuggle and who doesn’t want Vern snuggles in the morning.  It was a great hotel, for the most part, but I could tell it was killing John to be away from me after a few days.  Oh sure, he tried to be brave, and Monday when I told him I was coming back, he tried to be selfless and said, “Are you sure? Absence does make the heart grow fonder.”  Luckily, we have been married so long, I could see right through his bravado and told him so and all he said was my X-ray glasses must be broken, which was weird because I was wearing my regular glasses.

It has also occurred to me that if Hayley is in charge of John and me as we get older we are in big trouble.  One night when John was hurting and I was not feeling all that great and already in bed, I called her on her cell phone down in her room and said, “I will give you $20 to take the dogs out.”  I think she was up those steps before I got the last word out simultaneously yelling for the dogs and yelling for her cash.  I told John we had better start stockpiling twenty-dollar bills now for our old age. Oh, and when it became apparent that some slack might need to be picked up, oddly enough she came down with the same thing I had and was too sick to do much. Hmmm…I sure didn’t see that coming. She opted to go to the Doctor and got an antibiotic and guarded those pills like a drug dealer.   In between blowing my nose and coughing, I said to her a couple of times to share those pills with her poor mother and all she ever said back was it was important for her to take all her pills as prescribed. I liked it a lot better when she couldn’t read.  She had better hope she doesn’t need a kidney someday, because I am going to say back that at my age I go to the bathroom more and I need two for storage.  I just don’t understand people who think it is all about them.

P.S. Everyone is on the mend and feeling better. No sick people were harmed during the writing of this blog.

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

Ricki, These Doodlettes run our lives, don't they? LOL We are getting back to normal. Hope all is well with you!!

[Ricki and Tara (doodle)]

Oh, goodness, Laurie!  I hope by now the household is returning to "normal" and the sneezing and moaning have stopped.  Had an "awww" moment looking at Fudgie'a after sneeze photo. Poor girl!  Tara too gets befuddled if sneezes or moans require that  DH or I sleep in a different room. She goes back and forth and I can tell that she hates things not being as they should be according to Tara.

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

Pat, Where have you been? Between the garbage and the dishwasher it is a wonder I haven't lost my voice :) LOL

Charlotte, What a nice compliment :) Fudge actually gets up and walks away like we beat her. Then she goes a good distance away from whomever sneezed and just stares at them. It is rather spooky! At least Bo doesn't run.

Bonnie, I know, right? Poor mom :) He is doing better and so are the rest of us. Plus, it was almost 40 yesterday, but I have heard snow and ice in the forecast :(

[Pat and Traveler]

How did I miss this for so long???  Laughing, but so glad you're feeling better.  Funny how Fudge was so confused about her night routine.  :)   Nobody has ever taken the garbage out voluntarily around here.  Why is this such a huge task? 

[Charlotte and Bo]

Your inner Erma Bombeck is showing again:-)  Bo doesn't run for cover when I sneeze, but he does look at me like I've lost my mind.

[Bonnie and Kona]

Somehow it is always, always, always the Mom that carries on. Be brave, Laurie, this too will pass (but probably not for six weeks). UGH!!! Between the weather and the health troubles you guys need a big fat dose of Spring! Hugs to poor sweet Fudgers. If all of you come down with colds or flu how will she get through this?

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

Jennifer, LOL...my DH doesn't see scratches. In fact, I could probably make a trap door in the floor and he wouldn't notice until I pulled the lever :) LOL Glad you had sympathy for Fudge John.

Lisa, I will NOT tell John anyone thinks he may be right. That could go straight to his head :) How funny that Daisy is afraid of sneezes, too. I have never seen anything like it. Luckily, Fudge is not afraid of coughing or she would have been in serious trouble these past few weeks. Thank you!

[Lisa, Daisy & Dexter]

Somehow you always manage to make me giggle, even if it's about all your misery....oh I mean their misery, oh I mean poor Fudge and the sneeze syndrome her twin is afflicted with that too as well as cough fear.

Hate to say it Laurie but I think John (for once) is right about the ribs....they don't do anything.

Hope all of you are well on the way to recovery....good luck with him returning to trash duty.

[Jennifer,Chloe & Myla]

Glad to hear all is going to be ok...poor Fudge John!

Loved the blog as always-hope you all feel better soon! It's amazing how they can see a tiny scratch on the floor and want to know where it came from , when it happened and who is responsible-but they can't see the lid on the trash can is falling off! No-you cannot possibly push it down anymore!!!

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

Thanks, BG. I think I have a set of those in the closet for him and I use them when I walk the dogs, although I lost one, so for awhile was walking around with just one :)

Cheryl, We are all feeling better now, although John is still taking it easy so he doesn't re-injure himself. Thank you for your concern and I am glad I made you laugh :)