I swear, I am this close to a complete and total mental breakdown. I mean, my nerves are wire thin and I have snapped more times than I like to admit this past week. And poor Bob bears the brunt of it.
It's like one minute I am the perfect, patient, loving caregiver wife and the next SNAP! I am the Screaming Evil Bitch from Hell. Case in point, yesterday, when Bob kept pointing at the ceiling fan and saying "it's broke". And it was not broken. It was doing what ceiling fans do, you know, going round and round. So I figure he wants it turned up or down or off. So I'm standing there, hand on the pull chain asking him "turn it up?" and "turn it down?" and "off?" and he just keeps saying "it's broke!" and then after three or four rounds of this I just----SNAP!
And I scream at him, "IT'S NOT F---CKING BROKE!!!!" GA! And I probably screamed a lot more stuff at him which now I cannot even remember, because it was as if I was suddenly possessed by a demon.
Of course, I hated myself afterwards...
And don't even get me started on the "towels". Which he keeps demanding and I keep supplying and he will take a fresh stack of neatly folded towels and tell me they are "wrecked". I tell you, I am washing/drying 40-50 towels per day because of his new towel obsession and worried sick my washer and dryer are not going to survive this assault. Then the other day, Bob kept saying "towels" and I kept bringing towels and he kept wanting more "towels" and I SNAPPED again, and I screamed "YOU WANT TOWELS! HERE'S TOWELS! GAAAA!!!" and I dumped a whole armload of towels right on top of him. And there's poor Bob lying there, wide eyed and terrified, and covered with towels...
I do fear I am losing it. It doesn't help that lately Bob has been either horribly constipated or the exact opposite. The other day, I swear, he was pooping for two hours straight. I kid you not. Every time I got him cleaned up, oh shit! because there another one was coming at me. I tell you, somedays, our life is just really full of shit. And I mean that literally.
This week, too, I've had to chase around town to find Bob's pain medications. This because Walgreens is in some trouble with the DEA and they do not have enough pain medications in supply right now. And they cannot tell me when a new supply will arrive. And I cannot call and ask if the shipment has arrived, no, because they cannot give that information over the phone, so I am told I must come down in person, everyday, to see if the shipment has arrived and to get there early before everyone else snatches the stuff up---and like I have time for this crap. So on Wednesday, Chris came over to sit with Bob so that I could run all over town trying to fill three separate pain medication prescriptions. I was able to fill one at our Walgreens and another at a Walgreens across town and, finally, after several more fruitless stops, managed to get the last prescription filled at a non-Walgreens grocery store pharmacy. And all the time worrying that The Green Machine is going to take a dump and strand me some 30 miles from home. Because that car has developed some new quirks. Like not letting go of the key when I turn the ignition off. And leaking coolant. And starting hard. And worrying, too, that Bob is going to run out of pain medication because no one seems to have the stuff. But I got it all and made it home.
On a better note, I talked with our attorney yesterday and the defense has been strangely silent and missed the "20 day deadline" to respond to our complaint. He thinks they are waiting for us to make the first move, so he is sending a "demand letter" stating that we want X amount of dollars to settle plus interest for every 30 days they dawdle. He is very upbeat and positive about the whole thing. We'll see what happens.