Last night I duct taped washcloths around the doorknobs in MW's bathroom so she doesn't hit her head when using the toilet. "Don't they make safe doorknobs?" she asks.
"Most people don't have problems with doorknobs," I answer.
Later, around midnight, she wakes me up in a terrified panic. She's trying to floss but can't wedge the string between her teeth; too much plaque.
The night before she woke me up at the same time to move a heavy blanket. So heavy, this blanket, that she was afraid it might strane her arm were she to try and adjust it.
Before that, it was 3:00am when MW had a crying fit over a pain in her hip. Arthritis, she was sure, and we stayed up the rest of the night worrying.
I am exhausted.
The ebb and flow nature of my job is flowing now and I've been working 12+ hour days - that's straight up work: no breaks, lunch at my desk, no walking around. Tack on a two hour a day commute, then home for cleaning and cooking and care-giving.
This is what a zombie must feel like. Except, of course, they're already dead. Lucky.
***
MW was hired last week. She filled out all the paperwork, even went to take the drug test. Then the night before she was supposed to start, she sent an email saying she couldn't take the position. Another, better job came along, she lied.
Dodged that bullet. MW needs to be kept as far away from people as possible so nobody accidentally sends her over. So far her own dementia has taken care of this - she really can't commit or make up her mind about anything. But it does cause distress. "What am I going to do with my life?" she cried after turning down the job.
Nothing much. Die, mostly. Spend a lot of time dying.
***
Having walked away from employment, MW is now determined to travel and see friends. Eh, we'll see. This is another one of those deals where I get to be a totally useless asshole and will still likely get my way. Of course we can't travel - MW can barely survive in her own house. No way she'll adapt to strange buildings/strange rooms, therefore, I'm terrified she'll actually commit to going.
So how do I prevent it?
By doing nothing. I tell her to plan the trip and I'll show up. Whenever she asks for my advice, help, or opinion on anything, I just reply "Whatever you think is best." and let her spin around uselessly until the decision doesn't get made.
This almost always works; and I'm trusting it'll pull us through again.
***
As it has with the house situation. We can't renovate because MW wants to move instead; but we can't move because there are no suitable houses. What, then, is a suitable house? Let's see: one story only; not anywhere near any kind of water (including drainage ditches, ravines, retention ponds.... basically anything wet.), not near a school (kids are horrid), can't have big trees (they'll fall and kill you!), no Asian prior owners (seriously), can't be situated off a busy street - or even a slightly busy street - hell, any street where cars can achieve speeds of 30+ miles per is dangerous. On and on . Really, every house she's looked at has had something wrong with it. And brother, believe me, if she doesn't immediately find something, all I need do is make a weak, mushmouthed comment about something and it'll stick in her mind like a catchy pop song. "Oh, look. This street has a bike lane." I noticed at one place.
Ha! There's another for the list: can't be next to a bike lane.
***
I may have had an honest to God alcohol induced hallucination. Not a pink elephant, but close: green fireworks. One quick starburst in the sky. I was with MW and I made a comment about it - I can't remember what - but her response was non-committal. Then I started wondering - why would somebody shoot off one star-burst fire cracker in early May in a suburb? Also, I know MW, if she had seen it too, she would have gone off: "that's illegal; nobody should do that; fire hazard; blah blah blah." So she must not have seen it - even though it filled the sky.
And I hadn't heard an accompanying "boom". Just the flowering then fading green lights against the black night.
Had I really seen it? Even now, I'm not sure.
So I stopped drinking; but I'm doing it smart this time: I'm not making any long term sobriety plans; this is only a July 4th lent. 40-someodd days of self-denial until the nation's birthday. Then I'll start drinking again until around September when I'll go on a Halloween lent. You see how this works. After Halloween; back in the bottle until Easter for real lent.
This I can live with. I think I can live with this.
***
If only it wasn't for these headaches. Don't worry about my liver going soft on me during the dry times - I'm popping Advil like M&Ms.
