5 a.m. Today my wife and I celebrate ten years together. Or I should say that today is our anniversary; whether we celebrate or not remains to be seen. Two weeks ago on Valentine’s Day, I’d remembered what day it was when I’d gotten up. But by the time my wife woke up, I’d forgotten and instead of feeling romantic was busy getting ready and running late for an appointment. Not a pleasant way to wake up on any day.
If I can keep my pain under control, I’d like to get out of the house and do something with her this afternoon. Putting things off until evening carries too much risk these days. And since I’m off to bed at seven o’clock, four seems like eight used to when I enjoyed a normal sleep pattern. And since my wife lost her job, both our afternoons are free. As are most of our entertainment options.
Last Thursday, I pushed it and went to a late movie. And paid for it with unmanageable pain for three days afterward. Maybe not a movie today then. I don’t think there’s anything out that we really want to see anyway. I’ve got no idea what to do for our anniversary, though. Or what time she’ll be getting up. Our schedules have us going in opposite directions, with her waking up just as I’m heading back to bed for my first nap. I suspect she’s just settling in to sleep when I wake for the day.
I suppose our anniversary following so closely on the heels of a spectacularly flat V-Day leaves me lots of room for improvement. Just about anything, short of waking my wife by clanging pots and pans together, would be a better way to wake up than her hurried and harried wife cursing my ineptitude as I try to get dressed in the dark, with no balance or fine motor coordination.
Dinner out would be nice, too. We’d talked about driving up to Seattle to see some friends, but I think I’ve forgotten to send the email. I’d like to do something to show her I love her, something outside of our normal routine. I’m pretty lucky she’s stuck with me through all of this. She puts up with a lot. And I mean a lot. Even before-Lyme, I was difficult to live with. Now, she never knows what she's going to wake up to. But she keeps waking up next to me, or at least in our bed while I'm down suffering on the couch with the dog. And I know she'll still be with me when I'm healthy again.
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8 p.m. I may have remembered it was our anniversary, but I forgot it was Tuesday, our weekly gimp night where a bunch of us with chronic illnesses & our significant others come and eat and watch tv. Right now, they’re downstairs watching some singing show; I’m on overload and it seems like the tv is just shouting at me. Plus, a storm front has moved in and my pain has not been well managed today.
My wife and I ended up having a late breakfast at our favorite diner after my morning nap today. I must have been on a carb high, because we ended up going to a furniture store to look at a new couch. We’ve been looking for a while, since our current (inherited) couch has become downright painful for me and I’m supposed to be resting most of the day and I’m not supposed to spend all day in bed. Which pretty much leaves the couch. Except, I can spend just about five minutes on ours before I start to shift and fidget and generally annoy my wife until I call it quits and go to bed, feeling (and sounding) like I’m about eighty as I go. As I have tonight. Actually, tonight I didn’t even try to sit. My left hip hurts so bad it’s making my cervix contract, my heel pain hasn’t gotten any better since I resumed the bart-oriented meds six or seven weeks ago, and the electric pains running through my fingers could go away forever and not be missed. The Lyme pretty much guarantees I won’t even remember it at all.
But it’s been a pretty good day. After trying out a few different options, my wife informed me that we weren’t leaving the store without a new couch. Not literally; it’ll arrive in about four weeks. I’m happy with the one we chose, but I worry that it’s not a financially responsible decision. It was on sale, though. And if I factor in how many trips to the chiropractor, lmt, and acupuncturist my current couch leads (or should lead) to, it doesn’t seem so bad. A decade is a long time. Something to celebrate. By going to my comfy bed early while my wife and the gimps watch junk tv on uncomfortable furniture downstairs.
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