Caregiver’s Log, Day 985. Still.
Noon Visit with old friend who drops by with strings for your husband’s guitar, which he’s been too depressed to play for the month he’s been cooped up in the house. Offer Diet Coke or water, realizing you desperately need to go shopping.
1:00 pm Prepare and administer Round Two of IV infusions. Nod and smile when your husband says: “This better fucking work.” Stare at photo of the two of you in tux and gown at the Maui Top Performer Sales Conference, thinking: Really? That was just five years ago?
1:30 pm Pay monthly bills for your mother, your father, yourself, your husband and yourself. Smile at guitar strains of “Sweet Baby James” emanating from den.
2:00pm Debate workout or shower. Vacuum entire house instead.
3:00 pm Lie on couch beneath fan in puddle of sweat and immediately fall into fifteen minutes of bliss-filled sleep.
3:15 pm Assist husband with daily strength-building exercises because he’s fired the physical therapists; after all, he’s a fitness coach and sure as shit doesn’t need someone telling him what to do. Task him with getting his own beverage and when he returns, soda can in hand, tell him: “No lie, that walker’s history in a week,” and really mean it.
5th in a Series of 7. Read the rest here