Day 7 of COVID+
Not everyone can do it. Not everyone can be a caregiver. I have been one my whole life - since my younger siblings needed watching, then my parents separated and my mom went back to work - and I guess I had a great Mom to mimic. Too good.
I take care of everyone. Not in a babying way. More of a loving teacher way. And if you are sick, man, I am there like my mom was. Four kids and 4 grandkids later, I kick ass.
But this week, I went down with Covid for the first time ever (after 4 vaxxes and 3 years) and it has been rough. A full week later and I'm still testing positive with a low grade fever and chest pressure and fatigue. And I got left alone. So alone. I finally had to whine on the 3rd day for sometime to help me remember my meds because NO ONE came in my room. Correction...after the 2nd day my baby boy brought me tea and soup and had checked in on me every day after that.
But hubby care? AWOL. Nada. He couldn't use our bedroom so he was really stuck in some ways.. but didn't use the week to make a good workable solution for himself. He just slept on sofas and chairs and bad blow up mattresses and got more and more sullen (maybe from lack of sleep) and finally today I made a bed in my office with the best blow up mattress that he found and I'm moving in there for awhile.
I've never felt less cared for or less loved. It has sucked 1000%.
Even Erin, who usually does the great daughter thing, didn't do anything for me except get me gummies to sleep when I asked, because she's pissed at me. I started talking to her a couple weeks ago about making plans to budget and move out at some point (she's been living in the basement for 4 years) and she's angry with me. Bad timing for sure.
So I'm hanging in there taking care of myself and thanking God for Paxlovid.
But damn, hon. It's awful that you can't take care of me. My golden years are suddenly seeming scary.
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