Shit, shit, he knows, hell I told him. It hurts. He hugged me.

I don’t really know how to write this. It has been so upsetting to me, yet he needed to know, and his not knowing was also becoming a problem. I was trying so hard to hide it all from him that it was causing him to wonder why some things were causing me to have issues.

Yesterday I arranged for each of us to get three vaccines from our local Walgreens pharmacy. We both got the covid, the flu, and the RSV vaccine shot. Then today I went and got my three allergy shots.

When I got home I started doing dishes, Ron talked about not wanting me to work so hard in the house, as he was trying to get a door up between our living room and the rest of the house that the Hurricane Ian ripped off. But then we started talking. And my world went South, East, North, West, and all over the map.

I don’t know how the conversation came up, but it had something to do with my adoptive family and the hell spawn that abused me. Ron said something about one of the hell spawn siblings, and it just slipped out. I really never wanted to tell him, I told myself I wouldn’t. But dogs that love gravy I did.

I told him how the hell spawn knew I was adopted, and because there was an ambiguity over if I was really a member of the family or not. Because the adoptive mother wanted me, but it became clear fast the adoptive father did not. He made it clear I was not a member of the family. But when I stopped being a cute toddler, she lost interest in me also.

But back to today. Ron mentioned something from the hell spawn, and I just started to tell him. As I have said in 2007 on our way home I told him I had been abused but never told him more details and he said he had figured that out. But then he has lived with me having terrible nightmares where I relive being raped or beaten. So really I understood he would understand. He has woken me when I was begging or screaming in my sleep.

I am not sure how it started now, my mind is trying hard to bury it. But I started by telling him of the Vet across the street that was fucking me at 4, then I told him the worst of it, starting with how the hell spawn daughter / sister who was in charge of us at night would get her boyfriend sexual excited and then let him have me to satisfy his need. She got pregnant at 14 like her mother, married by 15. Three marriages, two of her husbands would molest / rape me. One of her husbands loved to play with little boys wieners, especially when he was inside me. I told him how each of the male hell spawn of the family who were teens used me repeatedly. And how they let their friends have me. I told him one of their fun games was forcing me to the top of the staircase, then pushing / throwing me down it. Betting on how far I would go, how many times I would bounce, stuff like that. And then the most painful, I told him parts, but not all of the abuse by the adoptive father. He more than any others enjoyed hurting me. Maybe because he never wanted me at all, but regardless, the things he enjoyed doing to me, I still can not face today.

Once I started, I just couldn’t stop. I told him of the beatings, the sexual assaults, the fear of them all, the time the one hell spawn I thought I could trust to be my friend lay on top of me hitting me saying admit your gay, admit your gay. I was 5 years old and she was 10, and had no idea what she was hitting me for. Then she said because guys fuck you, you play with their dicks. What, why is that wrong? It is not like I had a choice! I told him of the beatings, and other attempts to break my bones, and how the hell spawn used me sexually. I nearly broke when I told him how one of then raped me so badly, I described to him how I was then beaten for soiling my sheets. One of the hell spawn like to pee on me at night to get me into trouble, and when I finally got a bed I would wake up to him peeing on me and I knew in the morning I would again be blamed for wetting the bed. The adoptive parents either did not believe me or thought it funny.

He already knew how until I was like 7 or more, I slept in a hallway, because as my adoptive mother told me I did not need or deserve a bedroom / bed like the other kids. Often they would take me to their beds, and I knew the price for the privilege and yes I willingly paid it. Wouldn’t you? I told him parts of my summer in Canada, and he said it explained why I wouldn’t have anything to do with the adoptive father’s mother when I was an adult and she would be visiting. I refused to be in the same room with her. He always wondered about that.

I could go on, but I got a lot of stuff out that I had hidden from him. Then suddenly after I was done explaining everything to him, or at least a lot that he did not know, I suddenly had the fear I always have had all my life. I suddenly worried he wouldn’t love me, I was damaged, I had been fucked by a lot of boys / men not him. I was less than, used and … Hell and shit, why did I tell him so much I had kept hidden! Why now damn it! 34 years I had kept it hidden … yet today I exploded with the sexual and physical abuse information. I know that is stupid to think that way, but he never knew the details. I had kept them from him, leaving it vague. He knew I was abused, but not the details, now he knows details.

I did not even tell him about the court ordered visits to doctors or therapist. And how the cop that escorted me used it to have a tryst with his mistress, with me listening through the open door, seeing some of it. Thankfully I don’t remember him telling me to join them, but as conditioned as I was, I would have.

But as I was getting to the worst of it he sat next to me, and then as I was starting to falter and feel I did the very wrong thing, he slowly reached out to me. I realize now that he did not want to trigger me. He stood up, came over closer and gently hugged me. I was trying to say I was sorry, I did not mean to tell him, but he just held me. Then after he let me go he suggested I go wash my face but he told me as I turned away. “I love you, I have always loved you. This changes nothing how I feel about you.” He said a lot of comforting things, things like they can’t hurt you and you won’t ever have to see them again, some are dead. But he knows they still hurt me, they haunt me. The memories are always there somewhere, waiting to pop back up.

He made me a small supper but I was so upset I hardly ate. Then he suggested I go to bed for a while. But I struggled to sleep. He came down to check on me and then rubbed my back and arms until I fell asleep.

All that happened yesterday. We got up about 3:45 am because Tupac wanted food and then out to do what cats do outside. I am fixing errors, stuff that needed reworking, then I will post it. Ron is treating me really softly this morning, he knows I got very little sleep. My emotions are all over the place, my nerves are raw. Maybe getting it out, letting him know the details, maybe the memories will let me rest, let me be for a while. I have a doctor’s appointment this morning. Oh well. Hugs to all.

I was going to do a video but maybe tomorrow.

Ron is still struggling with his leg, and today I needed to order my morphine. Florida is so regressive that you can not use any pharmacy computer system to refill morphine, which is a drug so old it is one of the most researched drugs of all time, but you must personally call in the refill on the right day and then pick it up on that day.

I called it in and from the fact that I got sent right away to the over fill call line instead of the actual pharmacy, which happens a lot because Walgreens is so understaffing and over whelming their store staff. They take the information and then transfer me to the pharmacy of the store I go to, which is just down the road. I wish they would just let the phone call go through to the store I use, as I then have to repeat every thing again.

So several hours later I get the notice the drug is ready, so I go in to get it. Then the first of many things happened that will stay with me. I am waiting in line as a woman is complaining that batteries for her blood pressure cuff wear out too soon and are far more expensive than she can afford. I understand that. But the person behind the counter while understanding can not change the price for her.

So I take the time to explain to her about lower cost rechargeable batteries and recharges that are reasonably priced. She keeps complaining while putting back five different packages of large numbers of batteries. I explained she needed to make sure the rechargeable batteries and the charger were the ones she needed for her blood pressure machine.

Then I step up to the counter, the person behind the counter who was a single mother who I am friendly with as I am almost all the pharmacy staff, simply because I am patient and care about them. She already had my morphine package ready, so I asked if she had a good day off yesterday and how her son had enjoyed the holiday. She rolled up her sleeve and her entire upper arm was bruised and swollen. I immediately became concern and asked her about it and if she was OK. Remember, I worked in an ICU and our concern was always if a patient felt safe at home.

She started to tear up, her lips trembling as she struggled not to cry. Now my entire focus was on her, fuck my morphine. She said it was her son. Now I was totally focused and concerned. I asked her if she was OK, if she felt comfortable talking, or if she would rather not tell me. She replied that her son has mental illness. I told her is she wanted to talk about it, I was here and would listen. Sadly, as she was thanking me, other people stepped up in the line behind me. She sadly shifted to her duty.

I talked to her as she processed my payment. Gave her my thanks and told her she was wonderful, and again if she needed something she had my contact information and “I gave her permission to contact me with it”! The last was important and with in hearing of her coworkers. I am serious, she could contact me and I did not want her in trouble for doing that. So after she thanked me, I left.

I went to the grocery story next door to get a few things. I won’t bore you with the stresses in there. But the most important thing is not the people I talked to in the store, but what happened after I put my stuff in my car, put my cart away, (I am disabled and some days need a walker to walk, but it pisses me off the people who just leave carts in parking spaces or in such a way they hit or will be hit by other cars. Several weeks ago I got so pissed at a woman who was clearly able-bodied who after putting her groceries in her car, left her cart next to my car almost touching it. I had been about to back out, but instead got out, walked around to the passenger side, walked up to her door looked in at her, then took the handle of her cart she left there, and put it in the space for them nearby. All while showing her I was walking with a cane. I then returned, looked into to her car, made an exaggerated shrug motion, and got back into my car. She backed out and left, never even acknowledging the event)

As I was about to open my car door when an elderly woman pushing a cart with a few things stopped almost behind my car. She and I were in direct sight. She was very elderly, had very white hair, had very white pale skin, with bright red pouches under her eyes. She had her left hand up to her brow and was moving it back and forth. By my dogs that love gravy, I was immediately concerned.

Mam’m, are you OK, I asked as I turned fully to her. She stood there a moment wiping at her brow and then turned to me and in a shaky voice said “Oh I am so tired, I am just very tired”! Oh crap, alarm bells are going off in my head. She then went on to say she was going home to rest.

Long story short, which my conversation with her was not. She rambled on about how she lived along but her brother was with her now. Oh, visiting I asked as I said I understood how having other in your home could be disruptive? Nope, and then came 20 minutes of the brother being a long haul truck driver and every part of the rest of her life for the last few years. I went over to her, again trying to assess if she needed assistance or not. She seemed in her senses, she knew what was going on, what year it was, the president, and she just wanted to talk it seemed. But she kept repeating she was very tired. I kept asking if she needed help, was there someone I could call for her. Nope she was not far from home she just wanted to tell me she was very tired, about her brother staying at her home right now, his job, her home, her other stuff.

As far as I could tell she was OK, but yes tired. But really only wanted to talk to someone, even a stranger in a parking lot of a grocery store. I must have talked to her for 20 minutes. My own legs had gone numb and I was leaning hard on the car. I really was stumped what to do, I had nothing I felt would raise red flags for the store if I asked them to help her, and I really felt she was just really lonely. So lonely she was willing to tell her story to a stranger who asked her if she was OK in a store parking lot. I was torn, but my own needs were screaming at me. So I said OK then, if you are sure you’re OK and don’t want me to call anyone or get the store to help, I need to go home. She said her goodbyes, happy weekend and pushed her cart forward.

When I got home, I talked to Ron. He really is the medical person, he spent nearly 20 years in ICU’s giving medical care. He told me I did everything right, I assessed her as best I could. He asked more detailed questions on her skin, her stance and other things I really couldn’t answer. He told me that as she seemed in her right mind, competent and did not ask for help, I really couldn’t have done more. Still I worried. Then I got angry. This old woman lived alone for a long time, she told me, that is why the brother visiting caused her issues. Why is the US so damn hard on older people who are alone? The wealthiest country on earth, number 1 In the GNP and military might, and a little old lady is standing in a parking lot telling a stranger how very tired she is. Hugs. Scottie. And now I am going to bed!

Oh My Dogs That Love Gravy !!

Just a day after my explaining to Nan my need for order and things in their place, Ron and I got into an argument about it. It even started to get a bit ugly before we both tried to find a way to compromise, which was do it my way or take your messy shit out of my Pink Palace!

Ron lost his desk when James moved, and when James moved out he destroyed it. It might have been able to be shored up and fixed but James pronounced it dead and broke it apart. Before Ron or I could say anything. So Ron had an old book case / stand he did not want that held stuff including jars of rocks and books. They were in his way of getting other things done. So I offered a shelf or two in my Pink Palace. That is when trouble started.

He brought them in and dumped stuff on the two shelves. Some laying flat, some with the spine out and readable others not, some standing upright but all different heights. I told him we couldn’t do that and because he is frustrated at not getting his stuff done that he feels pressured to do but his bad leg is stopping him from doing such as the door construction and wall construction which need to be done before his sister arrives on the 2nd, he decided to fight me on it. I explained to him that he knew every book on my shelves in my other office was arranged by size / height, he knew that. Well he bitched what if it is too heavy for the one shelf, I replied you will brace it! Finally, at an impasse, I told him to take them out or I would dump them in his recliner for him to do what the hell he wanted, or he would help me arrange them as my desk was between the distance of the shelf and it would take two people.

He gave it some thought and now the shelf is nicely arranged. I figured out one more pink bracket would hold the books at one end, and by tilting them slightly and using the jars of rocks over the other brackets at the other end it held them nicely. All problem solved. Ron apologized and said he was just so frustrated he couldn’t do what he knew he needed or wanted to get done and I promised I would help him with it, but it was important not to further damage his leg. All is good in our home again. For now. Hugs. Scottie

Weird, but it is Ron telling me enough

On my other monitor, I have the Star Trek Picard series that Ron bought for me. I watched two episodes and then started to close it out. Yes, I love watching them … but I have so much else to do. So many saved blogs tabs to read, so many comments …

And Ron got a bit angry, which is not normal for him. He looked at my two screens, one with the next episode and the other with windows of tabs to get to. And he got a bit angry. He reminded me I have been awake since 1 am, and it is now 7 Pm. He reminded me I never take time off or do things for me, he reminded me that if the entire internet world went away, I would still really like to watch the show. He really put it this way … who pays you to work this hard, day in and day out … all the time.

When I started to explain my blog, he was not sympathetic like I thought he would be. He stood there in my face and said yes that is the online stuff that will be there forever, but your damn body is here and now and you simply need to let shit go. Watch the DAMN shows! Close the other computer down or ignore it, but “WATCH THE DAMN SHOWS AND RELAX A BIT”!!!

So per my hubby of going on 34 years I am changing focus. I will spend the rest of the night watching the season 3 of Picard on Amazon. I would love to keep these windows open to see if I could sneak in a reply or two. But Ron is standing over my shoulder wanting this monitor shut down. Hugs and loves. Best wishes. Scottie

So it happened again

Over the last few days I concentrated on wiping out backlogs of open tabs. But this afternoon I just realized it has been about three days since I checked the comments. And yes, I realize I lost a bunch of comments by not getting to them. I am now busy filling up this window with open tabs over the last few days I have missed. I figure about 60 plus or more. Then I will start going down through them. Give me a few days and as always, if you left a comment and did not get a reply or acknowledgement and want me to reply, leave the comment again. Sorry, but I struggle to keep up some days. I have been up since 1 am, on the computer since 2 am. I have not taken a break except to eat. It is now 3 pm. I am tired out. I may give up for the day. But not until I save these, so I don’t lose them also. Hugs, loves, best wishes. Scottie

I had a bad night, the images, feelings, sounds wouldn’t stop. I ended up walking the floor listening to this.

There’s got to be a morning after
If we can hold on through the night
We have a chance to find the sunshine
Let’s keep on lookin’ for the light

Oh, can’t you see the morning after
It’s waiting right outside the storm
Why don’t we cross the bridge together
And find a place that’s safe and warm

It’s not too late, we should be giving
Only with love can we climb
It’s not too late, not while we’re living
Let’s put our hands out in time

There’s got to be a morning after
We’re moving closer to the shore
I know we’ll be there by tomorrow
And we’ll escape the darkness
We won’t be searchin’ any more

There’s got to be a morning after
(There’s got to be a morning after)
There’s got to be a morning after
(There’s got to be a morning after)
There’s got to be a morning after
(There’s got to be a morning after)
There’s got to be a morning after
(There’s got to be a morning after)
There’s got to be a morning after
MAUREEN MCGOVERN

I am worn completely out and my day is not done.

Right from the start my day has been on my feet with little pauses. During those pauses, I quickly posted a few things I felt important. I got up at 3:30 am. I feed the cats, did all that stuff, handled a few things on the computers. Ron got up and informed me he had two appointments he failed to put into the calendar, one a doctor’s appointment and the other a Zoom meeting I needed to set my computer system up for. Ok, I got a quick shower and started doing the dishes from last night, kept dealing with cats. Then Ron left for his appointment and called me from the grocery store he stopped at on the way home. He had forgotten to take the cane he uses, and he was struggling to walk. I asked if he needed me to come get him. Nope.

When he got home, I had already set up the computer system, just needed him to sit and do a sound check. But when he pulled in to the driveway, he couldn’t walk, so I got his cane and helped him inside. Then I brought the few groceries in. I put them away. I got him settled in my Pink Palace and ready for the Zoom meeting with family and his brother in the nursing home.

As he did that, I started a red spaghetti sauce for supper. After his meeting He came out and I got him some lunch. I was struggling my self by now so I took even more medications. After he ate he went to bed, I finished making the sauce and got my own lunch.

After eating a great meal of Chicken Supreme with egg noodles and lots of the gravy, I took the remainder out of the large baking dish and put it into smaller containers, then washed all my dishes, his dishes, and the stuff I used to cook the meal. I then got stuff ready for Ron, who wants to make meatballs for the sauce.

I am beat, I am done. At this point, I don’t even care if we eat tonight. I have clenched my teeth so much my own teeth and jaw aches. My back won’t hold me well, my legs hurt and are so shaky. I have four open windows with many tabs, I did not answer any comments or read any other people’s blogs. I keep having pain shocks and muscle spasms, and I am afraid Ron is going to want me to help him more when he gets up. I have 10 minutes left of The Majority Report with Sam Seder and Emma Vigeland. Then I will shut the computers down and go to playing Halo. If you don’t hear from me tonight or you had something you needed a response to, I hope I can get to it tomorrow, but for today I have reached the end of Scotties rope. I know that has happened a lot lately, but the fact is with Ron hurting himself and us not having access to needed healthcare, and being rather lowering income, hell just say it we are poor now, things are much more demanding on me at this time in my life than ever before it seems. Plus I also am old, disabled, in bad health, and today very tired. Hugs, loves, Best wishes. Scottie

I reached the end

After days of doing everything I could around the house because Ron was laid up, after struggling to lift the cat on the counter and hold him, then lifting him again to my desk. I just found out something.

Yes my pain and struggle to move has been bad since we got up at 3 am, but when I got up to put Odie down I couldn’t stand. I had to call Ron to pick Odie up from the desk and put him down, Odie struggled against him because of course he would. Then Ron went to my cane holder and got one of my canes. I can not stand or walk. Ron is thinking I will need my walker at this point. So that is how it is going to be for me for a few days. I will try to take more medications and let them work, but pain medications don’t heal the body or fix the issue, they cover it so you can ignore it. That is the real danger of pain medications for most of us, it is not over dosing, it is using it to ignore smart and safe practices to keep pushing your body past the point it can take. Anyway back to videos and reading, commenting, and blogging. Hugs, Scottie

It is 2 pm and I am stressed.

Hi all. I know I have 4 open windows with so many open tabs of comments and stories on blogs to get to. But please remember I woke at 3 and was informed by my love of going on 34 years that he was in pain and worried he couldn’t breathe, and maybe in trouble. Forget coffee, that is an instant wake-up signal. I already told you all about that.

So about 10:30 the pharmacy tells up the penicillin prescription was ready. Yes the other was delayed, but I did not care Ron needed that antibiotic and pain relievers, … well we have those in the house right.

I went to the pharmacy and they were already busy as they always are. I respect these people so much, they are often understaffed and always over worked. As I stood in the line, the lady at the desk wanted the pharmacy clerk to do something impossible for them to do, as he patiently explained to her. Finally she left. I stepped up.

As I asked him how he was doing and said he should just take a few moments to breathe, he recognized me. His facial expression and demander changed. He smiled broadly and took a breath. Then told me he was OK and that it had just been a hard morning. By my dogs that love gravy it was about 10:45 and they only opened at 9. But I have stood in line and seen the abuse heaped on them. I understood.

Side note. I called in one day as it was the day to fill my morphine and the state of Florida on the war of opioid addictions made safe drugs like morphine so hard to get as they made it a top tier drug for restrictions. So for a simply well known drug given out to World War 2 soldiers, they treat it like heroin or other illegal substances. I personally think that is because it is so inexpensive compared to newer medications, and big pharma doesn’t like that.

So I was talking to Daniel and explained I was there to pick up Ron’s new antibiotic penicillin prescription because at 4 am I was in the ER with him. The Pharmacist heard that and stopped what he was doing and came over to ask me if Ron was ok and what happened. I explained it. Then Daniel showed the pharmacist that the doctor had also ordered a pin medication that had yet to be filled, it had been pushed back in their Que to much later. I jumped to say that was OK, I would come back but Ron really need the other medications, at which point the pharmacist told me he would fill it right then. I said I did not want him to go to extra trouble, at which point he looked me right in the eyes and said “Scottie for you it is no trouble, give me a minute and I will get it ready”. Wow, treating people nice really works out. I moved over and sat in one of the waiting area seats but in about one minute the pharmacist came back with both prescriptions.

We chatted, I told them how I appreciated them and said I wished I could do more for them, and they all were happy. But as I turned around to leave, the older woman next inline did something unexpected. I had thought she would have been upset about my taking their time to talk. But instead she said to me as she stepped up to the window. “Your kindness to them means far more than you can know. I do, as I was once on the other side of that counter and you gave them a great gift.”

Wow, what to say. I am just an old poor crippled man trying to navigate life. I nodded to her, not sure if I even said anything as she passed me to the counter. On my way out at the front check out was a tall large woman. She had a unique and rather colorful tattoo from her chin down to her chest, which the bottom showed a beautiful butterfly. No one was in her line, and I couldn’t resist complementing her on it. It is my way.

I stopped and we got talking. I told her I loved the butterfly at the bottom and how beautiful it was. As we talked, I suddenly realized she went from a bored hello thank you for shopping to an open happy explanation to the complicated tattoo. I said I could see the wonderful butterfly, but I did not understand the rest of the large tattoo. She explained the symbolism and all the aspects. I asked if it was painful, to which she said yes. I told her she was braver than me. Then I noticed her finger nails. They were long bright white with tassels and other objects embedded in them and hanging off of her fingers. Each one was a different spiritual symbol. I was delighted and we talked for another five minutes about them, with me being very appreciative of the work and her ability to use them in daily life.

As I was walking out, I turned and looked back. That lady that seemed so bored and down cast when I first started near her now shined, her head was up and … how do I describe it … well she radiated a light and happiness around her. I am not a person to believe in woo and the supernatural like my spouse does. But I sure do believe in emotions and in people. You treat them bad in public, that changes them and it affects the rest of their day. You treat someone meanly and they will react that way for a while to others, it is simply how humans are built, when we are unhappy we pass it on. But by the same measure if we are happy we also pass that on.

I really loved that woman’s tattoo and her finger nails. I can not imagine the pain and discipline to let someone around your throat that way with my background. And the work and patience it must have taken for those fingernails is incredible. And all so people like me could enjoy them. Seriously, she wouldn’t have gone through all that if she did not want people to see them. Anyway, those that can not see the beauty in those things I have little time for.

Which leads me to the reason I am writing this long post on a normal part of my day. Something I am sure others do all the time. It is because I have 4 open windows with so many open tabs of posts, comments, and other things I really want to get to. But after watching four videos of the Israeli bombing of a captive public in Gaza, I really feel for my own health I need to leave the computers / internet news and instead move my TV out and play Halo. Really sorry but today my mental health won’t let me work on the open tabs, the comments, the stories, the other things. And the fear of needing to take my aging 68-year-old lover of 34 years to the ER is still resonating in side me. I just need a break, something to get away from it all. It took me so long to do the dishes because he kept offering to help, but he can hardly stand.

If this is the last post I do today, loves and hugs, and lots of respect and best wishes for all. I am off to pretend land where I am the Master Chief fighting the forces of evil that want to kill all humans and make the universe bad. In that universe I can stop them and make things better. Hugs, best wishes. Scottie

Got home at 7 am

Tried to write this three times from the ER. My old tablet simply wouldn’t let me log in to my blog. My phone would, but each time I finished typing I would try to set the categories and lost it all three times. So my morning.

I did not get much sleep but that is OK, I did not expect to the day after steroid shots. I woke at 3 am, rolled over to see Ron was laying there awake. I moved to snuggle, and he said he was in trouble. I asked him what was going on, thinking his leg he twisted several weeks ago was acting up from the four hours or more of going shopping at only three stores yesterday morning. Spent over 400 dollars on groceries, but we hit good sales on large packages of meats that Ron could split up and wrap, then put in the large freezer. We will have thick pork chops, pork strips, steaks, ham steaks, different kinds of chicken, ribs, hamburg, and a lot of other meat I can not remember. But Ron couldn’t walk by the time we headed home and I had to help in the house while I carried the bags in with my damaged shoulders I just Thursday had steroid shots in, my back, and my legs. But I had made sure the bags were light enough, except the freezer insulated bags Ron shoved all the meats packages in. Those were single two handed carrying while walking slowly. Couldn’t use my cane with both hands full.

But that was not his main problem. A couple of years before Ron retired and while we had dental insurance Ron’s dentist retired. I was having a lot of dental work done with the idea of having it finished before he retired. But he had to retire a year early. But Ron refused to see my dentist or get another. Recently he broke a tooth and still wouldn’t see a dentist. On and off it has been bothering him, he doesn’t eat hard food much, and used a lot of tooth pain stuff.

This morning at 3 am he told me he couldn’t swallow and his mouth, gums, and teeth were really hurting bad. He was sure he had an infected mouth. First he said he wanted to go to convenient care. We got up, I started the coffee and fed the outside cats, Tupac came in for the morning. Ron called the closest ER, which was the Cape Coral hospital, and asked if convenient care was open and would handle his need. They told him no, he would have to come to the ER. So at 4 am we pulled into the ER parking lot. We were the only people in the waiting room, and Ron got triaged right away. After about 30 minutes, Ron and I were taken to an exam room. After the nurse checked him in for both his infected mouth and his twisted leg we had a short wait until the doctor came in. He looked at Ron’s mouth saying it was very inflamed and infected, and then looked at Ron’s leg. He said he did not think Ron had anything broken but the leg was swollen. He ordered X-rays, and a prescription for antibiotics such as penicillin. We waited for the portable X-ray person. Soon she arrived and took the X-ray, so then we waited for the doctor to read it and come back. The doctor said it was not broken but as he suspected there was soft tissue damage. He recommended a dentist and an orthopedic doctor check. He left and we waited for the nurse. She came in with pills for Ron and his discharge orders, along with a couple pages of dentist places for low income people along with regular dentist offices and the same with orthopedic doctors. We left with Ron hobbling out using one of my canes. We arrived home at 7 am.

I helped Ron into bed, made a new pot of coffee and sat to type this. Ron’s stubborn refusal to do what is needed is seriously affecting our money situation. I have tried to address that with him, but as he has aged he has gotten more anxieties and more reluctant to take care of things that need doing. Especially about his healthcare. But now I am going to get something to eat. Hugs. Scottie