So, today started with trying to collect a urine sample to take to Quest Diagnostics to prove whether or not my wife's stinky pee and incontinence are due to a bladder infection.
During the collecting of it, she didn't have to go, but she did have to poop, which she did. We managed to get a small sample, which I took. Lots of poop cleaning was required because she was sitting on it and it was messy. I took the sample and also went shopping.
When I got back, I found she had pooped more and once again was sitting in it, this time for 4 hours. I didn't pitch a fit, but I was nonetheless not happy either time. She cried the second time around because the poop was everywhere and it hurt when I had to go and wipe it from every crevice.
Needless, to say I am disillusioned again with God and my reality (and hers) and wish to exchange it for another.
(later)
Afterward, thinking "I have finally gotten through this fucked up day--now I can meditate," it was 1:30 AM. In the middle of my meditation a cat acted startled. I ignored it, or tried to. One half hour later, as I took off the headphones and climbed the stairs, I was hearing the shrieks of my wife. "Andrew! Andrew!"
She had thrown up on her gown and on the sheets, requiring both to be changed.
Apparently, my whole meditation is one big Ego Trip anyway, because I was--guess, what--rattled and upset. It is now 2:30 AM and I am--guess, what--MAD! I can't get a break, but no matter, my wife has me beat. She is the real sufferer. I am just a whiny brat. Great.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Journal entry for August 1, 2011 (Having a shitty day? Meditate...yeah, right)
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
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I've changed my comments settings to allow for anyone to comment. All comments are welcome, even spineless potshots from anonymous posters. Please, by all means, give me the tongue lashing I so richly deserve. I promise not to hunt you down and melt your keyboard with my plasma cannon. I won't, however, promise not to pout and make that face you can't stand.