I just discovered what has been waking me up at 2-3 a.m. It's my husband. This is the time he ventures out of bed to eat and go pee under the influence of Ambien. When his Ambien is working, he stumbles around like a drunk because, well, he is. Tonight he flopped into the bed after tripping over something on his side of the bed. UGH. It's all his fault.
Okay, that's not the only reason. It could be one of the kids getting medicine, or a pet but the biggest culprit is HIM.
Top that off with my internal squeak in my eardrum and well no wonder I am awake until dawn. I have an ear ache and that ear drum can hear my blood pulsing to my brain on that side. It's driving me nuts. The pitch changes from the sound of blood rushing to squeaks and whines to the sound of a European siren. It's making me crazy. I need to see the doctor about it but I just can't make myself go to urgent care. I think I will go tomorrow. I need to get out of the house anyway.
Okay, so I got up and posted my complaint. I think I will do some laundry and knit until I get sleepy again. <eye roll>
Saturday, June 8, 2019
Sunday, June 2, 2019
Surviving the Twenty Year "Is this how it's going to be?"
I can see why people that have been married about 20 years break up. They stop trying to do something in the marriage. In my case it's intimacy. I'm not talking sex, although that's missing too. But the true intimate things a couple does for each other.
The hubster has psoriasis. I knew what it was before he got the diagnosis. This makes the poor man itch like crazy. It was the worst on his legs for a long time then he had some long rounds of antibiotics for his teeth and it started clearing up. Well he liked me to scratch his back then the spots appeared on his back and I was afraid that my scratching his back would make those spots worse. Or he would only want me to touch him to apply medication or scratch places that were getting worse. I grew tired of it and started complaining. Tonight I realized that if I didn't medicate those places he couldn't see, they weren't going to get any better. And I have to remember to do it every night because he's my hubster and I want him to be okay.
The other side to this story is he's stopped touching me. He pets the dogs more than he touches me. Heck he doesn't like the cat and he pets her more than he touches me. I set myself up for this in two ways. First there are times when I'm in too much pain to want to be touched. The second was a stupid comment I made about 10 years ago.
Inflammation is my enemy. If something on me isn't hurting I'm usually heavily medicated. Most of the inflammation is in my digestive tract but occasionally it will be an over worked area on my body. So he never knows when I'm going to shrink away from him because I'm in pain. Therefore he doesn't think to reach out for me anymore. I think I can get him to rub my back every other night the stars align right.
Then there's the comment. Back when I was trying to get him to save his teeth I told him if he had dentures, our sex life was over. And well I still mean it. BUT, you know there had to be a but right? I had to get him dentures. He was going to die if I didn't. He couldn't eat, his tummy was messed up from the bacteria his jaws were getting infected all the time. It had to be done. The initial plan was he was going to have to get implants right away but he couldn't because of the infection in his bones.
Here we are, he's had dentures about a year and when he gums food I just want to vomit. Tonight, I wanted him to touch me but he's dipping toast in milk and eating it without his teeth. I sat in the shower and cried.
I'm going back to work so we can afford his implants. I can't take this for another 55 years.
The hubster has psoriasis. I knew what it was before he got the diagnosis. This makes the poor man itch like crazy. It was the worst on his legs for a long time then he had some long rounds of antibiotics for his teeth and it started clearing up. Well he liked me to scratch his back then the spots appeared on his back and I was afraid that my scratching his back would make those spots worse. Or he would only want me to touch him to apply medication or scratch places that were getting worse. I grew tired of it and started complaining. Tonight I realized that if I didn't medicate those places he couldn't see, they weren't going to get any better. And I have to remember to do it every night because he's my hubster and I want him to be okay.
The other side to this story is he's stopped touching me. He pets the dogs more than he touches me. Heck he doesn't like the cat and he pets her more than he touches me. I set myself up for this in two ways. First there are times when I'm in too much pain to want to be touched. The second was a stupid comment I made about 10 years ago.
Inflammation is my enemy. If something on me isn't hurting I'm usually heavily medicated. Most of the inflammation is in my digestive tract but occasionally it will be an over worked area on my body. So he never knows when I'm going to shrink away from him because I'm in pain. Therefore he doesn't think to reach out for me anymore. I think I can get him to rub my back every other night the stars align right.
Then there's the comment. Back when I was trying to get him to save his teeth I told him if he had dentures, our sex life was over. And well I still mean it. BUT, you know there had to be a but right? I had to get him dentures. He was going to die if I didn't. He couldn't eat, his tummy was messed up from the bacteria his jaws were getting infected all the time. It had to be done. The initial plan was he was going to have to get implants right away but he couldn't because of the infection in his bones.
Here we are, he's had dentures about a year and when he gums food I just want to vomit. Tonight, I wanted him to touch me but he's dipping toast in milk and eating it without his teeth. I sat in the shower and cried.
I'm going back to work so we can afford his implants. I can't take this for another 55 years.
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