Mrs. the Poet was released (kicked out by her insurance) from the rehab home and I’ve been kinda busy with her needs for the last bit. I read my e-mails and web comics and then I collapse in bed until it’s time to get up and do it again. Unless you’re into stories about changing an old woman’s diapers because she can’t get up to use the toilet, it doesn’t make for riveting reading. I get to sleep about 3 or 4 in the morning, wake up by 0900 and drag through the daily routine of maintaining life functions, turn the TV on in time for Wheel Of Fortune so Mrs. the Poet can watch it, then turn it off when the daily insanity of network TV starts. Sometimes I turn it back on for the news and weather forecast.
With my own limited mobility I get worn out taking care of Mrs. the Poet. And I neglect my diet while trying to find something Mrs. the Poet can eat, because most of my regular diet sets off Mrs. the Poet’s delicate tummy. Seriously my rotgut diet seriously upsets her delicate gut biome and has her pooping frequently. As she puts it my digestive system is like the bottom of a bathtub while hers is like an empty egg shell. I’m still hydrating to excess to prevent kidney stones even though mine look like yellow Tic Tacs and while I know I’m passing one they don’t hurt. It’s still better to not have them, because even though they don’t hurt as in cause me pain they still could damage a kidney. And that wouldn’t be good.
And that’s about all I have to say today.