other wise known as another complainy mess of a post.
We had only been back from Jude's St. Louis surgery for about a 2 weeks, enough time to work the kinks out. You know like sleeping and eating and toileting issues... the stuff that doesn't matter but matters a whole lot to the everyday running of a home... when Papa was diagnosed with shingles.
And among other places, it's in his eye folks.
If there was a class in compassion 101, I know that should take be the first one to sign up! But for now, I'm much better at doing all the minutia that needs to be done to help you feel better rather than be a counselor and tear wiper. Unless of course we can wipe tears and do the counseling in an efficient 5 minutes of less. Usually no chance of that. I'd rather solve your problem through action rather than validate your feelings. I'm just not a girl in this respect.
Back to poor Papa. With shingles in his eye. And a wicked headache for about a week now. And a whole litany of symptoms that not much can be done about. Poor guy. And not a nursemaid in sight.
We found our new normal with Jude and are counting down the days till our next trip to St. Louis. Literally. 10... 9... 8... The lifting of this sweet child to and from his wheel chair, in and out of the car, on and off the toilet, out of his bed and to the breakfast table... my back is calling it quits. But now our attention is mostly to help Papa recover and feel better. Which mostly means keeping the house quiet enough for him to sleep as much as he can. Which is the only time it doesn't hurt. And keeping the remote control handy. And delivering meals bedside. And keeping his water cup full...
And I can do that.
I'll quite gladly do that.
I know he'd do the same and more for me. And really it is a privilege to care for someone as wonderful as this man. And again, in a weird way that makes this another ordinary miracle.