T-1.5 hours until the rubber tube is removed from GH's nose. I fear that the ENT will take it out and it will just start gushing blood again, but hopefully that fear is unfounded. I can't wait to have some semblance of normal GH back. I miss talking to him. It hurts him to talk, so our conversations have been rather uninspired and one-sided.
I've had so much on my mind this week. First and foremost, taking care of GH. This has taken a lot of emotional energy. Throughout this whole cancer ordeal, he's been such a fighter. I've been amazed at his ability to pick himself up and go to work, endure awful treatments and their side effects, and be willing to try anything that might help. For some reason, this nosebleed and the ER have been different. His whole demeanor has changed. It's been scary and depressing to see him so listless and uncomfortable. He seems to have no will, no motivation. I think part of this is that he's been in constant pain at some level; even when the Oxycodone takes the pain itself away, the pressure of the tube is still uncomfortable enough to be troublesome. He's like a deflated balloon. He has barely asked about the babies, barely asked about *me*. I feel guilty for wanting that interest when he clearly needs to focus on himself, but I need a sign that he wants to feel better, wants to go on. I hope that getting this tube out brings back the GH I'm used to.
Then there's the cat. She seems to be doing OK and she has an appointment at the vet next Tuesday to meet her new doc, get her annual exam and shots, and get checked out for any lingering illness. Let's hope that's nothing serious.
Then there's effing work. Of course, this would be the week that I have a meeting nearly every day with The Evil One. This woman is one of those people who just seems to delight in making others feel bad. I really think she enjoys it. She likes to undermine people to make herself feel powerful, expose people's weaknesses to make herself feel strong, and make people feel stupid and incapable to validate her own accomplishments and intellect. She's a smart woman, but a bad person and a horrible manager (luckily not my direct boss). I thought I had a story basically finalized and ready to go to art yesterday, but she decided that she needed to see it before I met with the designer and BOOM, now I have to redo the whole things. "It's too hard for third grade." Bullshit, but she wields enough power that I just have to smile and nod and rewrite the thing. Argh.
At least I got a lot of sleep last night and had a relaxing evening yesterday. And I really, really hope that I get my GH back this morning.
T-1.25 hours.
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2 comments:
God, what a week. I agree that the change in demeanor is a bit scary- I hope getting the tubes out help. Would a stronger pain killer help also, or just make him too loopy and unable to function?
I'm sorry you are going through this. I hope the end of the week is better than the beginning.
Oh, honey, I hear you, and am holding you both in the light. I remember how it hurts to have one's husband have to stage a retreat into his illness. And how lonely it is to have him "there" but not really with you. Words are so useless; I wish there was some better way for me to send sympathy, strength, and hope.
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