Admittedly Bitchy

I'm cranky.  The people at the hospital confused the King today, so I had to rush up here from work, which means that I had to tell my boss information that is none of his fucking business.

It's fine now.  Hopefully the King will be back in the castle tomorrow.

But right now he's getting a blood transfusion.  And I'm working from the hospital.

And his nurse is sitting in the room watching us.  And interjecting her opinion in anything we say.

I realize that she probably has to stay in here for some reason. 

But I don't really care. 

She's annoying me.  And I'm not in a sociable mood.

Single White Female'd

I've decided I'm being Single White Female'd. 

I tried to come up with a clever analogy for it, and I'm at a loss.

Mostly it's a people thing, not a look alike thing, but it's starting to irritate.

It all started with Facebook, where most things evil begin. 

I noticed that she seemed to be friends with all of my best friends.

Which is fine.  They hang together when I'm around and maybe they really like each other.

Then I introduced her to old friend of mine and she started a FWB thing with him.  (Well, I think it was a FWB thing for him, but an Always and Forever thing for her.) 

Awesome.  I wish them well, but please don't tell me details, he's like family.

Then, through him, she met some more almost family people and started hanging out with them.

Good for her, though kind of freaky, they are great people and very good at taking people under their wing.

Then she told me that she had a good time hanging out with my Aunt.

Not my almost Aunt.  Not my courtesy Aunt.  My born from the loins of my mother's mother Aunt.

Sorry.  I draw the line at real blood relations.  You can't hang out with/talk to almost every good friend I have now AND have had in my past AND spend time with my relatives without it looking a bit like you're invading my bubble.

And I didn't even place a personal ad.

Square One

At this point in the whole "The King is Sick" saga it's a whole lot of one step forward and two steps back. 

We're back again.

In the hospital, that is.

I hate the hospital.

I hate the sick people.

Often I hate the staff.

Like the one today that tried to move a bed attached to an IV that was attached to the King's vein.  Repeatedly.

Or the one last time who lectured me every time she came in on how to wife my husband.
She wasn't married.

Fortunately we finally have a set of Doctors for him who actually do rounds that we like.

His GP is awesome and funny and usually very nice.  And his GI is succinct and doesn't mind explaining to me, and totally understands that the King is NOT in the castle.

But oh my giddy aunt, I hate the smells.

The Out-Laws

I'm pretty angry with the King's mother right now.

I opened the door for it by being very honest with her, but still, I'm angry.  And more than a little hurt.

She told me that she thought it sounded like I was "punishing" the King  for being sick.

Excuse me?

She says that expecting him to help around the house, and the very possibility that I might have to cut off his smart phone said that I was punishing him for being sick.

And that I knew he was sick when I married him.

I'm sorry...

Bitch say what?!?!?!?!

First of all, I recognize and admit that I've been pretty waspish lately.  I'm tired, worried, stressed and sick.  So I'm prepared to believe that something I said came across wrong.  But seriously?!?!

Second, I didn't know this was coming before our second anniversary when I married the King.  True, I knew he had cancer, and I was starting to understand the mobility issues that would be later revealed as osteonecrosis.  But this?!?!  I had no fucking clue.  I didn't even know you could have cirrhosis of the liver at the ripe old age of 36 fucking years old.

Thirdly, I'm punishing him because I think he should fold the laundry and pick up the house a little while I'm at my two jobs?
Maybe you're Superwoman and able to:
get up, work-out, dress and feed children and husband, get ready for work, go to work, take husband to the dr., come home, help with homework, feed and bathe children and husband, work job number two, clean the house, do the laundry, check the backpacks, refill the pill box, go to the grocery store, unload and put away the groceries, then maybe get some sleep. 
But I'm not. 
I'm not Superwoman, and I need some help.  I'm not asking him to clean the floors with a toothbrush every day.  I just think that he's capable of picking up the house a little, maybe do some laundry and hopefully cook a bit. 
And believe me, he's capable.

And Lastly and Most Importantly,  I realize you're his mother.  But I'm his WIFE.  God chose you for him and you've done a fantastic job, thank you.  But the King chose me.  He chose me to be his partner because he loves me, respects me and trusts me.  He values my opinion and agrees with my choices.  We are a team.  And there is nothing that I would say or do that he would not agree with me on (at least in public).  So take your nose back to Colorado where it belongs.

Almost Human

I hate being sick.

I don't have time for it and besides all that, it's unpleasant.

It's too bad I don't lose weight when I'm sick, that might make it worth the pain in my ass, but no.

I never lose weight.

Anyway.

I almost feel human again. I even put my nose ring back in. And let me tell you, that hurt like a bitch after a week without it.

But surprise, surprise, the asthmatic smoker has a lingering cough.

Today I have not so big plans. The White King is having a good day and the girl has a sleepover. So I'm hoping that me and the King can have a movie night with the boy child.

See how exciting our lives have gotten.

But I do like popcorn.

Because I Have Time for This

I'm sick.

 

I have the plague.

 

I feel like I've been run over by a freight train and beaten by a gang of midgets.

 

Because I totally have time for this.

Topsy Turvy

It's 2:00 AM and I have to be bright eyed and bushy tailed at church in 5 hours, but I can't sleep.

 

In the last 3 weeks, my life has flipped upside down and I feel like I have to try standing on my head to make sense of any of it.

 

3 weeks ago:

 

• The White King was a relatively healthy guy considering his medical history. Which is to say he was fine. I had no reason to believe he was not fine, but I also wouldn't have been terribly surprised if he had a heart attack and died at any minute.

• Both The White King and I had jobs. Not great jobs, but jobs that we were capable of doing and that were secure.

• I was looking into going back to school as soon as a certain someone provided me with a certain paper that I need.

• We were planning out our payments on our debt so that we could possibly move far, far away from my family in the near future.

 

Now:

 

• I'm not even sure about The White King's health. He says he feels fine, he's just tired, but then he walks around like a zombie, and acts like an asshole zombie.

• The White King will be quitting his job on Monday. He will not be released to return to work for at least a year. We applied for disability on Friday.

• I'm looking for a second job. And I know from experience living with my husband and mother that they will not step up. So I will be working 80 hours a week, taking care of my children, husband and house.

• Forget school. There aren't enough hours in the day.

• I'm lying awake staring at the ceiling sleeping on the couch. The White King is vomiting every few hours and I don't do vomit.

I would say that I'm losing my mind, but we all know that I lost that a long time ago.

This is not promising to be a perky blog-scene for the next few months.