I need to vent about this and because we don't have a topic titled "Things that Really Tick Me Off", I'm putting it here.
What's with our caretakers? Did someone remove the reasoning side of their brains before we got home? I mean, really, I just find some things totally unbelievable and sometimes wonder of Homer Simpson is living in my house.
First of all, my MIL was my caretaker for the first two weeks after my TLIF. Well, we all know that this comes with a lot of meds, pain meds, meds that cause constipation, right? Well, my first two weeks of meals consisted of chicken with noodles on a bed of mashed potatoes and gravy, or pot roast, or beans and onions on cornbread or fried chicken. Breakfast was french toast. Lunch was a cheese quesadilla. So finally, I asked her if we could have some vegetables, so she added potatoes to a fried chicken dinner. Her reasoning is that "they come out of the ground, don't they?" Uh, yeah, well, I was kind of hoping for a salad or something green like broccoli, but whatever. Well, the quesadilla did taste good, but it's not good FOR me, but she decided that I liked it so much she went and bought a package of tortillas and a block of cheese so I could have one for lunch every day. How sweet of her.
So she leaves and now it's my hubby who has to either make or help make the meals. He's been in church band practice after work on Tuesday and Wednesday so I had to make our dinner so it was ready when he got home. It absolutely killed me to do what it takes to make dinner, but dadgumit I need some chicken and veggies and salad, so I did it. The dishes are still sitting on the counter because I can't empty the dishwasher to clean the kitchen and he's just too tired.
Last night, no practice, but boy, was he tired from having practice the previous two nights. So he says to me, "How about I make us bacon for dinner?" Bacon? Bacon I ask? "Yeah, bacon sandwiches. It's easy and I'm tired." I told him to do whatever he wanted and I'd make myself a salad. The dishes are still sitting on the kitchen counter, blah blah blah.
So, he asks me last night, "I hope you're going to come to church on Saturday..." He has to be there at 8am for practice and service isn't until 11am. Has he forgotten that I can't drive yet? And even if I could, has he forgotten that I can't sit for 1-1/2 hours in a wooden pew and then drive home?
And yet, he's the first one to tell me when I'm hurting that I'm doing too much. "You have to take it easier," he says. Oh, ok.
My house is a disaster because the only thing I can do is pick up the stuff my dog rips apart during the day with my little picker-upper, I can't clean the kitchen and apparently I forgot to purchase the kitchen that can clean itself. I have to wonder if the kitchen will just keep piling up until I see my doctor on Feb. 16 and he clears me to lift 20 lbs. and bend over.
I must say that I'm very grateful to both my MIL and my husband for the things that they HAVE done and of course everything would be even harder without them here. But good Lord, am I the only one that remembers 24/7 that I'm trying to heal from surgery and there are things I need that I can't do and that I hurt all the time?
I sure hope that people that professionally take care of people at home make a lot of money because apparently it's a lot harder than it looks.
Can you tell that I'm just a BIT ticked off today? Sorry, I just needed to rant and now I'm done. Oy Vay! I know I'll think of more, but I'll just tell Wally. He's a good listener when he's not ripping apart the rug or dragging the clean laundry around the living room.