Being sick with an endless cough & passively looking after a doddering old coot is not a way to spend a week that I would recommend. I was so out of it one day that I gave grandpa all his pills in reverse order. It didn’t seem to have any effect on him, but in the evening when I realized what I’d been doing it was like “Well, I guess I may as well finish out the day backwards.”
I’ve only forgotten his pills once. I set the noon ones out to give him after lunch and just totally forgot about them. It was time for the next ones by the time I realized I’d never handed them to him, so I just skipped them. I don’t know what would happen if they got doubled up so I decided not to risk it.
I’ve been having an extremely hard time getting up in the morning to feed him & start the day. It can take up to 30 minutes to muster the energy to get up off the floor. The strength just isn’t there & it takes a while to spin my insides up enough to get the job done. I feel weak. Tired I’m used to, but weak is something different.
I also took a chance on some food that was a little older than I would normally try. It was a mistake. When my body decided it had to be removed it was quite a draining experience. Literally and metaphorically.
If every cold and flu from now on is going to be a rough as this I think it might just be time for humanity to pack it in. We fucked around too long and now we’ve got mega viruses that won’t be put off with a glass of OJ and some supportive words. Or possibly it’s just me who has gotten to old to shake off a bug like I did in my youth. Either way checkout time is coming for some or all of us.
I’d really like to get back to the actual story I want to tell instead of this random stuff, but the energy jut isn’t there with the sickness & half assedly making sure grandpa doesn’t die. I don’t understand how he can tolerate existing in the state he’s in. Maybe it’s just that he’s impaired so much it doesn’t register, but if it were me I’d be flinging myself down every flight of stairs I came across. I’ve just got a tough cold and I’ve been looking longingly at the basement stairs when I go to get cans of soup.
I have felt like I’ve been at my absolute limit several times this year, even before this year really, and yet I never quite seem to actually hit it. There’s always a little more limit. How long is the health bar? How much HP do I actually have? I don’t know, but I sure would like a potion before I need a phoenix down.
There’s a chance that things could get even worse in another week. I don’t even like to think about it, but even when I just skirt the edges I know it’s a possibility. One that no one in my family is ready for. I think that might be the actual limit for more than one of us. Maybe all of us.
I would like to think that when my time comes I’ll be able to embrace it with some dignity, but I haven’t done anything else in my life with much dignity, so I don’t know why my death would be any different. I guess it’s just a hope. Maybe my last words will be cool at least. It’s a low bar but a lot of people crash under it.
Anyway, I guess we’re starting another week, in another month, and the future will be what it will be. It’s not promised to any of us.