I am continuing the process of reducing the items in the house and deep cleaning every inch. I have had a slight delay.
My Beast has been sick for two weeks. He is still home recovering. I was able to resume more normal activities this week. Even with him here.
I never do house-keeping chores when he is home. I will wash clothes or do the dishes, but not much more than that. That’s no problem when he is working, but this is week three of him home. I don’t really know why I don’t like to work on my bigger chores when he is home. I just never did when we first married. I was home full time the first nine years so I was used to working when he was out of the house. He doesn’t do house work or cooking or anything like that, so it’s not as if we cook and clean together. Our arrangement suits us and is nobody else’s business.
What progress have I managed? Yesterday, I cleaned his bathroom thoroughly top to bottom using a toothbrush when needed. And both the iceboxes have been cleared up and cleaned today.
Today also had some special time. He and I went to the lease and filled deer feeders. It’s late getting done. Last week he was in the ER with post-plague pneumonia. He finished his meds yesterday, so he figured it was time to get something done. We took the tractor and used it to haul the corn to the feeders. I rode sitting up on the side with him like we have done for so many years. It’s one of my favorite things to do, going with him on the tractor or the buggy. It was especially nice today after his having faced off with the plague and won.
We give all the glory to our Lord. His help and healing are what we prayed for in faith. No. He isn’t completely over it. But the Lord is completely involved with us.
Here it is again. The dog days of summer. August has started out not so treacherous. Lower 90’s instead of near 100.
I so want to have enough energy to do more in the evenings after the 9-5. It just doesn’t happen. By the time I get to the house, I just want to sit and stare out the window or scroll through Instagram. I am scheduled to retire next summer. Everyone asks me what will I do with myself retired. I can’t seem to make them understand how important taking care of him and keeping house is to me.
I might write more. I might read more. I might be able to get my house the way I want it. I have some painting to do and some floors to recover and windows to redress. I might even be able to get every closet, pantry and drawer cleaned out and organized. I have some special projects still sitting in the wings. I also have a major ambition to pursue.
With my pain level like it is, the fatigue overtakes me and then I cycle into a downward spiral. My 9-5 job is very high stress and not rewarding emotionally or mentally. Just an endless round of reports and meaningless data collection for the politicians. It drains me. I hate feeling like this. The upside is that it leads to an early retirement and lifelong health insurance for both of us.
I want to be able to do things with him and for him to make his life better and happier. I try to research what to do, but then can’t focus long enough over the days to make the changes called for.
I am not alone in my frustrated state. Many of my friends have the same or similar issues. Not necessarily the pain, but the fatigue and the seeming inability to make things better despite having some vague ideas of what would help.
It is not that we have such desperately terrible lives. I count myself among the blessed in this world. I live in Texas. I have a solid house with hot and cold running water, two indoor toilets, a bathtub and shower. I have a well equipped kitchen and pantry and freezer full of food. I have central air that I can afford to run. I have good health in the sense that I don’t have to take any medications for anything right now. And insurance if I did. My vehicle is new and I always have gas money. My children are grown and independent and well. Both happily married and raising healthy children. I don’t have aging parents to take care of, though I wish I did. They have all been gone for many years.
I guess my point is that everything should be fine. But, somehow I have this nagging sense of unease. And the physical pain and fatigue that no doctor seems to be able to figure out what is caused by nor how to fix it. I have made yet another appointment with yet another doctor for later this month. He has a reputation for non-traditional evaluations and treatments. Maybe he won’t try to give me anti-depressants. I’m not depressed. I just don’t feel well enough long enough to get more than the minimal tasks completed. And that frustrates the daylights out of me.
Enough of this pity party. I am blessed. I love and am loved. I will do what I can and be glad for it as much as I can. I will try to forgive myself for all I can’t seem to get done and for the anxiety that builds up and causes me distress.
The cicadas just started buzzing close to this porch window. He will be home soon. The evening shadows will blend into dusk. The night will bring restless sleep, yet the coming dawn will break on a fresh, new day. Please, Lord, help me rejoice and be glad in it.