Stoned
OK, I admit. I've heard that from a few sources, but honestly, there is something wrong about a man whining. I just want to slap them and tell them to...well...be a man!
I seriously think I'm missing the men can hurt too gene. I'm so use to fighting through the flu, migraines, labor pain, blocked intestines, you name it, while cleaning the house, cooking dinner, watching kids, doing the laundry. working....that it's hard to be sympathetic.
We have kids coming in two days to stay with us for a week. Dale's been home from work since Monday waiting for the stone to deliver. In the mean time, the list of things to do keeps getting longer and longer. Everyday I expect to come home from work and find at least one item scratched off the list. I've never in 34 years had Dale home for so many days in a row. Yet nothings getting done. Who thought it would be so hard to birth a stone.
Thursday it still hasn't arrived. Dale goes to the Doctor. They send him to the hospital for a CT-Scan. He's having multiple stones. Five to be exact. OK, I'm starting to soften just a little. This is beginning to sound painful even to me. On top of that he now has a sinus infection, and a virus that he's fighting. (What?).
Tomorrow he goes to the urologist. I get up the nerve to ask him if he thinks we could possibly get a few things done tomorrow. I fight the guilt that I'm feeling, but I'm desperate. We have company coming.
Tomorrow's temple night. Hmmm, I'm starting to see some light at the end of the tunnel. He probably will need a ride home from the hospital....that means I probably will need to miss my shift at the Temple too.
Now... if I could only get stoned
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