Monday was Labor Day. Our laundromat of choice was closed. Our whole weekend schedule was upended, really. Our errands have to take into account the fact that Asa's strength and endurance are completely gone after about two hours. By Hour Three, he's running on fumes.
We did the grocery shopping on Saturday morning, getting me to work with just minutes to spare. Sunday, we went to Costco - which can knock the stuffing out of anyone on a good day. On Monday, we did a recycling run with a stop at Cost Plus. Doing laundry at the second-string 'mat was just beyond me. I had some priority mail packages that just had to go out on Tuesday and I knew I wouldn't have time to hit the post office, so I arranged for the mail carrier to pick them up at the store on Tuesday morning.
The day dawned and as I awoke, I realized Asa had been up for some time, had breakfast and was dressed and ready. I got dressed, swigged down some coffee, loaded the car with the laundry - and boom. Asa took a turn for the worse. He said, "I've never felt so odd," and began what became a marathon puke-fest. With no warning. It was scary. I was ready to take him to the ER. He stabilized somewhat and told me to go ahead with the day, he'd be fine. So I booked it and got the laundry going by 9:15. As soon as I shoved everything into the washers, I walked over to the bookshop (five doors down) to drop off some supplies we'd picked up in our travels. As I walked through the door I realized I had left the mail at home. It took me exactly 8 minutes to hike home, grab the boxes, check on Asa, and run back to the shop. The laundry still had 10 minutes to go in the washers. The dryers took longer than I expected, so I didn't have time to run it home before work - and the mail carrier showed up just as I was moving my car from the front of the 'mat to my end of the parking lot. No sooner did I hand off the packages when it was time to open for business. And it was hella busy at the store, all day long. I was hyper-alert all day, too - fully expecting Asa to call, needing to go to the hospital. Wanna hear something funny? As I was headed out the door that morning, full of worry, full of Stuff To Do, hungry, crazed, and frantic, Asa grabbed my hand as I kissed him goodbye and said to me, "Call me if you need my help."
I love this guy. He cracks me up.
I don't remember eating dinner. I don't remember watching TV. I don't remember going to bed. I DO remember starting to fall asleep, then jarring awake with the thought that we had to get up early the next day to get Asa to his 7:45 doctor appointment and asking him to set the alarm.
Turns out we both slept like shit last night, and both got up before the bell went off. We were ready to go in plenty of time. I even managed to sip a cup of coffee before tackling the wondrous experience that is early morning traffic around CNM (a vocational college) and the labyrinthine streets of the South Valley, arriving - at last - to this oasis:
We were the first ones through the doors this morning. It's so calm before the hordes descend.
While we were waiting for Asa's doctor, he started telling me a story - and he was so animated, I took this photo:
and promptly forgot what he was telling me.
The visit with the Doc went well. She thinks his puke-fest was caused by 'viral gastroenteritis.' Whee. She checked on his upcoming appointments and noticed he's scheduled for an endoscopy in October; she sent them a recommendation to do it sooner. We'll know in a few days if they can reschedule. She really just wanted to follow up on how well his current drug regimen is working, and take more blood for tests to monitor how he's doing. He's more clear - the Ambien is helping him sleep for longer stretches of time. He's still in pain, and they still can't do anything about that. When we left, we were more determined than ever to pursue the medical marijuana route for his pain. Get past the talk-about-it stage and start the actual process.
I took him to breakfast at our favorite diner, trying to relax, realizing there were no more deadlines on the horizon. I took him with me to work this morning, where his oldest friend picked him up and took him to the Bike Shop - they had sold one of his three bikes there, and he needed to pick up his check. He got to spend time with some of his favorite people, and it cheered him up no end. He managed to be out and about for almost FOUR hours.
He's been damned near chipper this evening. I'm so glad I could cry.
And so very, very tired.
Time for Mama to get HER medicine. Where's the rum, dammit??!?