Thursday, October 08, 2009

I'm going to STRANGLE my DH!


Yes, that's right. Strangle him! Or beat him with a rolling pin. Or something.

And I'm going to blog about it now while I'm so hoppin' mad I could bite nails in half. And not those teeny little nails I use to hang pictures on the wall that don't make a big hole. No, those ginormous 3" nails that will hold up to 100 lbs!

Because if I don't blog it right this minute, I'll calm down and forgive him because he's so dang sweet and cute. . .

No! I will not go there. I am mad and intend to stay mad for at least another hour or two.

So, remember when I took him to the ER back in July? Well, what I failed to mention was that in addition to the ulcers (which is what that turned out to be), he's been having some back trouble and it's been getting increasingly worse. He hasn't walked upright for two months. He's seen several doctors, had MRIs and other tests. Turns out he has a ruptured disk that has got a nerve root in a strangle-hold and he hurts from his bum cheek down to the bottom of his foot.

He had an epidural, used a TENS machine, done back exercises and is taking a handful of drugs. None of it worked. Yesterday, the back doc sent him straight for another epidural—a bit different from the one that didn't work, different medicine, different placement. Well, they nicked his spinal membrane and he got one of those killer headaches. It was awful! The doctor said 24 hours flat on his back.

The doctor said that around 4:00 p.m. yesterday.

I got up at 6:30 this morning and DH is nowhere to be found.

HE WENT TO WORK!!

WHAT?!!?

I KNOW!!!

That was my reaction too!?! And that's why I'm spitting nails.

Just so you know, this is what I expect in your comments—commiseration, vindication, and ideas for how long I should stay mad and how I should appropriately express that madness. (I was thinking a swift kick in the buttocks, but he wouldn't feel it because the epidural did seem to numb him up a bit there.)

Now playing on my iPod: What? You mean the one I threw across the room because I was so mad?

FYI—at the end of the angry phone call I just delivered to him, I did say that I loved him and hoped he had a good day.

But I'm still mad.

6 comments:

Annette Lyon said...

Ok, you have my sympathies. He's stupid.

But a lot of women would kill to have a guy with that kind of work ethic. So, you don't have my ENTIRE bag of sympathy.

You got a keeper. A keep who won't listen to the doctor, granted, but a keeper nonetheless. :)

Sandra said...

Yes, Annette, he is a keeper and he is sweet and would do anything for Karlene. I have always thought she was the luckiest woman alive when she found him.

BUT, ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?!

Should I stop by his place of employment on my way home and yell at him for you? Or maybe tell him I will bring you supper and he doesn't get any. Or if he would listen to the dr. I would bring supper and he could eat it too.

BUT, ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!!

And stay mad because he needs to feel it when he comes home. Maybe that epidural will have worn off by then.

Nichole Giles said...

You could always whap him upside the head with a pillow.

I want to admire his work ethic, really, I do, but I agree that you should stay mad for at least a week. Because tomorrow, when he wakes up and can't walk, guess who gets to deal with him until he can take himself to the bathroom by himself again?

Yeah, he better do some serious puckering up.

But at least while he's down, you'll still have his paycheck from today.

Tristi said...

As soon as I started reading this post, I figured it had to be over something like that, because he's wonderful to you and I couldn't imagine him doing anything to you ... but instead he did something to himself! He needs to know that it's okay to rest and recover!

Sandra said...

Hey, come over to my blog for a bit, k?

Cindy Beck said...

Oh yes, here it is almost 10 days later and I think you should still be mad. Well, not for reals "mad," but pretending to be mad so he'll feed you bon-bons and do the ironing for you!

(Oh yeah, right, like any guy is going to do the ironing. Maybe you could settle for him calling you something loving like, "Your Worshipfulness" in front of company, though. :)