Life has been busy yet again. And stressful. My poor Dad was having chest pains and was admitted to the hospital. He had a heart cath and had two stents placed in. He got out of the hospital on Friday and is such a trooper. He still wanted my older two for the weekend, so I sent them over with strict instructions to take good care of Grampie, and they sure did. He’s feeling okay, so I’m hoping that he’ll be back to 100% soon.
I have a cousin who also has some blockages and will be going in for a heart cath tomorrow.
I have an aunt who is in the hospital with some gastrointestinal issues. They don’t know what’s causing them, so they’re holding her while they try to figure it out. She’s been there for a couple weeks now.
Also, in addition to many bulging discs in his neck and back, my husband most likely has rheumatoid arthritis. It’s so hard for me to see him in such pain on a daily basis.
I’m not even able to find much peace at night. Not only has Bam decided that he needs less sleep at night, some nights only 6-8 hours. Now, I know it’s fantastic that he’s sleeping through the night, I am SO grateful for that, but those 6 hour nights kill me. I obviously don’t fall asleep at the same time as him. After he goes to sleep, I try to get as much stuff done around the house as I can. I like not having to pull him out of the dishwasher, and not having him unfold all my laundry as soon as it’s folded. I like sweeping and mopping and not worrying about him slipping on the wet floor. Oh, and then there’s the opportunity for an uninterrupted shower for me! So sometimes it’s many hours after he falls asleep that I’m settling down for the night. That means I fall into a good sleep and he starts stirring, especially if he’s fallen asleep early. He’s not napping more during the day either, which is odd. At least if he was I could get my stuff done then. He’s just sleeping a lot less. It’ll pass soon. I know it will, right?
He’s not the only problem. No, he’s not. A few nights ago I got woken up by one of my older two screaming bloody murder at 12:45am. I jumped up screaming, “What? What?” The reply was just, “Help me! Help me!” I dashed down the hall, my heart pounding to find my oldest boy on the floor. I was scared to death. Relief came when he sobbed that he had just fallen out of bed. I helped him back into bed and got him settled. He wasn’t hurt. I was on an adrenaline rush and had a really hard time falling back to sleep, though.
A couple nights before that, my daughter, for some unknown reason set her alarm for 1:30am. I heard the beeping and immediately was convinced it was the smoke detector. I jumped up and grabbed the baby and a blanket. I wondered if my older two were wearing warm pajamas. I contemplated putting the baby back in bed so I could go assess what was happening. It was only then that I realized the sound wasn’t right and then she shut it off.
Add in me falling while running up the stairs in the dark on Friday night. I landed weirdly on my arm/wrist and ribs and doing something to my ankle. Thank goodness I wasn’t carrying up the baby, just a very full, very cold glass of ice water (I only spilled a few drops!) I seem to be okay from that, but then yesterday tripped over the baby’s toy jeep twice! My toe is very bruised and swollen and very hurty today.
Also, a husband who has a cold, and a puking baby.