Post 461: Up all day and night.
It wasn’t what you’d call a pleasant day for either my Darling or myself, but it had moments of happiness in amongst the worry and quiet tears.
It’s a clear improvement for me and a stalemate for my Darling.
She couldn’t sleep last night and, before morning came around, she had looked in on me a few times overnight. The poor love got herself ready and went downstairs early to feed Mr V.
After a quick shower, I left it a bit late to touch base with her, but I grabbed the car keys after walking down the stairs with ease. When I got to the car, I couldn’t believe my eyes. The car had been trashed by the birds. Every side, including the roof and bonnet, was covered, and as we headed off it was me moaning about the bird poo on the beautiful car.
By the time I had dropped her off right outside the shop in the little town on the very steep hill, I figured I’d have plenty of time to get some water for the car and some grub for a snack for me, and fruit for her.
The copious amount of water I squirted on the front screen ran the washer tank dry on the drive up, but there was a Co-op nearby and I thought I’d be able to get some water, if not some screen wash, and then set off up the steep hill back towards the waxing shop.
At the halfway point there was a litter bin beside a bench, and there was rubbish on the ground no more than a metre from the bin. I stooped to pick the good-sized bits of litter off the ground. I would have felt good about my act of service to the town but for the fact I needed to stop a third time in 300 yards to catch my breath. Luckily the bench was there, otherwise I’d have fallen over, as I can’t remember being so puffed out.
I sat down to catch my breath and remembered the many times I’d strode up this hill without any issues, and at a speed ten times faster than today. I watched everyone else flying up the hill and across the road to the superstore I was heading towards, and I could feel the tears rushing up from somewhere inside to my eyes. I tried my hardest to hold them back and failed.
I made it eventually, bought the water and food for snacks and dinner, and my Darling got back to the bird-crapped car before me. She helped me get the bonnet up and fill the washer tank, and we headed back.
I finally found out why she’d been up all night, or what I thought was a good excuse, which was a headache she said was due to dehydration. I should have smelt a rat, but I didn’t.
When we got home she propped the bonnet open for me again, and we were met by the house cleaner, so we all popped inside: he could start cleaning, my Darling could go to bed, and I could get the bird muck off the car.
This was 10:15am when I started, and the cleaner had long gone by the time I had hoovered, got the bird poo off the car, and then washed the whole thing. It was very hard in the heat and very hard on my shoulders.
Although I had stopped numerous times for breaks, food and water, it wasn’t finished until after my Darling got up and asked me, “What on earth are you still doing out here cleaning the car at 2:00pm?”
A four-hour nightmare had turned a quick bird-poo clean into a full valet, which I promise you I never do to any car I’ve owned.
The rest of the day was spent resting beside my Darling, watching many K-dramas and holding hands.
In fact, it was only then that the real reason for her sleeplessness was admitted, and, to my horror, I discovered it was because of me. My bad days before the steroids had taken their toll on my sweetheart, and I’d been too ill to notice.
It led to a hand-hold that was tighter than usual, and it was obvious she was not over the shock yet.
I think that goes to show how putting on a brave face really doesn’t work when it comes to worried wives. They see straight through the smiles I try to keep shining back at them after talking to the doctors and popping the drugs that are, thankfully, improving my pains.
She keeps all her worries inside and takes them to bed with her, which causes untold symptoms of grief for her. It’s easy to see why she recovers slowly from her own problems, and I cried inside with the knowledge she finally shared with me, until I could quietly let those feelings settle later on.
We went to bed after my last pills at 10pm and shared a big hug before heading off to sleep.
But I couldn’t sleep tonight.
I’m still up at 6:30am and the series I’m watching is enthralling. The real problem is that after dinner, around 7pm, I had a Laxido sachet to help with the constipation I’ve had lately.
The trouble with taking it so late was that all night I’ve been struggling to stay ahead of the rushes to the toilet in the fantastic turnaround from pebbles to slugs. Sorry for that analogy.
So it’s my turn for a sleepless night.
The sad bits of the K-drama I’m watching turn me into a blubbering mess, and there’s nothing I can do about it. The emotions are right on the surface, with the AFib and bowel issues on top of the worries over the steroids and Tamsulosin.
It’s a jolly time we’re having at the moment.
My Darling has two more weeks off work (and needs them, right enough), and with luck she’ll have begun to walk normally again. She desperately wants to get back on her pins, but there’s still little sign of real improvement yet.
So be careful out there.
My shoulders and back survived the car cleaning today. I just wish it had made me tired.
Good night.
Take care.
