Thursday into Friday

 0145 on Friday morning and I’m awake, much to my chagrin.  I was in bed by 2300 after a long day. 

I know this is more like a whine novel instead of a blog, but I tend to detail things out - mainly for my own self to remember later.

Robert was home today. We are in the midst of trying to replace a tree from the derecho, and found out that we needed the old tree actually excavated, instead of just having the stump ground since the new tree needs to go in to the approximate same place as the former one.

I called the nursery back, and told the manager that utilities had not been marked yet, nor had the stump been taken care of.  About an hour later, he called back; Robert took the call, and then we began searching for an excavator.  Some seemed to be out of business, messages left with others and none have called back.  Will see what tomorrow brings.  I suggested Robert make the calls since he had talked to the nursery about it.  He did so, grudgingly.

If we need to, we will cancel the tree until spring. The winter sun is not as severe, and it will take some time for the tree to grow proper shade.  

In a brief conversation tonight, my dear friend suggested awnings.  I had not thought of that, so will look as a possibility.  I can say right now that Robert is likely to say no.

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Most of the day was fine.  It was beautiful outside, and I finished planting hostas for this year.  There will be some pickup tomorrow, and I hope to be able to mulch the bed down for the winter and be done with it.

The troubles began after we came in for the day.

The evening news and talk of the reaction to the VP debate, made him jump down my throat again. I asked him why he was taking it out on me?  As he kept ranting, I repeated it louder and louder till we undoubtedly could be heard by the neighbors.  He cursed Kamala, thinks it’s hilarious that Trump called her a monster, and that she was a piece of shit prosecutor.  Of course there was far more to that.  Again, as I have in the past, I told him that his problem is that he does not like smart, professional and strong women.  He didn’t like Hillary, he doesn’t like Kamala, he doesn’t like any of the Iowa women running for office. Which likely means he hates me, too. Oh well.

He finally answered me regarding the debate.  He had the nerve to tell me that he does that because he “doesn’t want me to make a mistake by voting for Biden/Harris.”  In fact, he told me straight out that he wants me to vote for Trump.  Fuck that shit.  I told him I will vote for who I think is the best choice. I have my absentee ballot and plan to fill it out tomorrow and hand deliver it.

Once he was over his rant on that, we turned to the next item.

That was my catathremia, which kicked in the wee hours of Friday. Of course, I don’t know I’m doing it - I’m asleep! But it wakes him, he jiggles the bed until I wake up, even though I’ve asked repeatedly for him to just gently wake me and I’ll go sleep somewhere else.  So, I got up, went and took drugs, put in my nasal piece and went back to bed, since by then it was only about an hour till the alarm, which I then slept through, till close to 8.

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Catathremia, for anyone reading this who doesn’t know, is a little known sleep disorder in which the sleeping person makes some sort of noise on the exhale.  This is different that folks with sleep apnea who snore loudly, hold their breath and many times are helped by breathing apparatus.  Not many doctors know about catathremia and treat people overall as though they have apnea.

For me, I tend to groan in my sleep when I am tremendously stressed, or my immune system is in a flare, or I am otherwise ill. And, I have been dealing with an immune flare. What I didn’t do, though is make sure I  took my drugs before bed that night. I did so, tonight. More about that  later.

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The final upset of the evening was as I was telling Robert about a study that is being done out of Iowa State.  It is a study designed to look at if fasting within a strict diet will help people with cognitive issues, which Robert has...(he does not believe this, by the way...another thing I found out tonight.)

He agreed, though, that the study might be useful - which makes me think that he is very much aware that his cognitive abilities are waning. Within that conversation, I said I really want him to have a physical too since he hasn’t had one since 1972ish.  He whipped around and glared at me. “Well..YOU need a physical, too!” “Why would I need a physical? I have them every year!” “You do?” “Uh, yeah...I do, plus I had mini physicals with the TBI earlier in the year.”

As usual, he was startled by that idea, I don’t hide these things from him, and he certainly went with me enough times to Cedar Rapids when I got my prescriptions compounded. At some point, prescriptions equal doctor visits! Duh!!!  He told me that he was just “messing” with me when he said that.

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He was watching Thursday Night Football, so I spent time in the office  just doing some work, and then playing some games.  I was tired, so even though my dear friend and I had not chatted much, I said goodnight, and took meds, put in my nasal thing, and crashed by 11. Even though Robert has to work, he stayed up bellyaching at Faux, or was when I went to bed, and he came to bed about 12:30.  The only reason I know this is because he made a production about slamming the window shut in the bedroom, stating that he would get cold, and then decided that the fan was on high.  He turned it off...started it back up, clicked it to medium - a surprise because he normally does not believe I need that speed to sleep through the night.  He listened for a minute, decided medium was really high, and clicked through it all a couple more times, till I said, “Robert...it’s on medium already!”

So, once again, I was wide awake. Two hours of sleep.  And I laid there making sure I wasn’t breathing stupid, and forcing myself to stay awake till he went to sleep heavily enough that I dared to close my eyes. (As in, once he’s sleeping and snoring, I’m *safe*.)  He kept whispering his ire that he wasn’t going to sleep and he didn’t know why and he needs to be up and go to work in six hours....

So, I finally got paranoid and kept thinking that I somehow was making noise and preventing him from sleeping. So, here I am,  back in my office with a full load of stuff to do and an alarm going off in four hours. I should be a bundle of fun tomorrow!

However, there is one bright spot on my horizon.  I flat out asked him how much money I could have for groceries.

His eating habits, and thus mine, have gone on like this for far too long...It’s really been about four years since I’ve grocery shopped because he keeps bringing home food that he’s in the mood for...things full of sugar, carbs, or just plain unthinking.  Now that I’m not working overnights...that must change.  I miss cooking and baking.  I don’t mind him doing his share, but....it’s showing up in my health and well-being. His, too, but until a (male) doctor tells him that, he’s not going to believe it. It’s evil of me, but there is a part of me that wants the “I told you so” along with whatever a complete physical will.

This picture is an example of what he brings home: there is mainly candy and store bought cookies. The only thing that was on the actual grocery list was butter and sweet cream for coffee. And, that was not urgent. It’s six or more candy bars, chips, or whatever junk strikes his notion on the way out of the store.  I seldom touch any of this stuff, and if I do, I suffer the consequences with inflammation flares!