Wife Invents Caregiver Holiday
One of my responsibilities was “The Meds.”
Last Saturday my wife surprised me. “Today’s a holiday.”
I was as eloquent as ever. “What the?” Oh yes. I’m a man of many pith.
“It’s Caregiver Appreciation Day. I’m taking you out to dinner!”
Our time at Club Meds was finally over. We were going home.
Yeeeeeeeeeeee-haw!
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What Screams May Come
Here comes the pill choo choo. Chug-a-chug-a. Whoo whoo!
Fool me once? Shame on you.
Fool me twice? Shame on me.
Fool me thrice? Satan’s tongue is licking my brain.
What? Don’t worry. I’m past the point of making sense.
I’d like to meet the person who came up with the 4-hour schedule for taking meds. (That’s the medical word for pills.) I’ll bet the sadistic bastard was a doctor. Yeah. It had to be a doctor.
8 o’clock. 12 o’clock. 4 o’clock. Rinse. Repeat.
It’s only six little (well, actually giant) pills every 24 hours. That doesn’t sound so bad.
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I’m The Guy?
What do you mean it’s all on my shoulders?
My wife had surgery and I took on the role of being her one and only caregiver. (Hey, a new word for my resume.) In other words, high jinx has ensued.
A mere 24 hours ago I was so naive in the ways of the world. I had never been The Guy before. I look back in time at that previous version of me and think, “You chump.”
A lot has happened since then. Let’s get you up to speed.
Shouts from the Abyss 
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