Last week, Mr. M had a plethora of appointments at the VA. We're talking three days in a row, people! It was c-razy. One of them was even at 7:30 in the morning, which meant that we had to leave home around 6:00 am. NOT our idea of fun.
But we did it. We went to the appointments, and even showed up on-time. However, by the third day, we were EXHAUSTED. I was tired from driving all over creation, and he was tired because, well, he's always tired. So we missed the appointment on the third day. I had a hard time getting up that morning, but I eventually did. Mr. M, however, did not get up. AT ALL. I tried to wake him, and he tried to mumble something about not getting up, so I let him sleep. I went about my day, and then picked up the kids from school. At that time, I then tried to wake him up again. I figured he'd had enough time to sleep. I was wrong. I got no response from him. I began to get a little annoyed, as I often do when I am left to watch my husband do nothing but sleep. But I realized that we had both had a rough couple of days, so this time I let it go. That night, Mr. M finally emerged from his slumber, just long enough to eat some dinner and use the bathroom. Then it was right back into bed! "HOW can you STILL be tired?!" I exclaimed. He just was. So I figured I'd spend the evening alone (after those kiddos went to bed, of course) and hopefully do something fun the next day, which was Saturday.
I woke up early with the kids. We ate breakfast and watched some Saturday morning cartoons. Around 11:00, I realized that we hadn't seen or heard anything from the daddy. I went to check on him. (Snore, Snore) He was still sleeping. I asked him if he was going to get up today. He said "maybe later." "Oh." I was sad. I had planned on cleaning and rearranging the house a week ago, and never got to it, and now that it was Saturday, I finally had my chance, so I took it. I cleaned and cleaned and cleaned. It's amazing how dirty/cluttered your house can get when you are NEVER home! I threw TONS of stuff away-kind of like Spring Cleaning. Then I started to tackle the furniture rearranging. I couldn't do it. I just wasn't strong enough. I needed Mr. M's help. I tried to get him up. He wouldn't move. I begged, I pleaded, but still nothing. So there I was, house mostly cleaned up, with the furniture spread out everywhere. I finally just gave up. And you know what? Mr. M did NOT emerge from his bear cave. Never have I seen him so tired. Never has he slept all weekend long. (Well, maybe he has, and I just don't remember it.) I blame the VA, as I like to do, (you know they are a blessing AND a curse). The ones who are supposed to be helping him are often his accomplices in pain. Oh well. What can you do?
I still don't see how anyone can be that tired. I don't think I ever will. I've spent nearly 10 years trying to understand MS. Maybe I never will. Maybe that makes me a bad caregiver. Sometimes I just get so wrapped up in the "It's Not Fair" campaign. I try not to. I know that only makes me depressed, and I truly do have so much to be grateful for. But sometimes I can't help it. I am, after all, only human.