|Posted by email@example.com on July 11, 2020 at 10:00 AM|
I've been staying up until 11pm to help Ben with his PICC line meds. Not that he needs it now. He can wrangle his arms into any position to get his syringes lined up. It amazes me.
But sometimes, it's just the little thing I can do. And I find with his sleepiness, I want to ensure he is taking his meds... on time. Sometimes an alarm has gone off and we set him up, but if he dozes off, time passes and we are off track.
And then I'm annoyed that I'm not helping enough.
So, 11pm, you're mine.
Alarms ring constantly. Reminders for medications. Ding, ding. Another.
But 7am. Sigh. You're not my friend, 7am. I hate hearing you start to ring and ding. You're loud, obnoxious and we are just too tired for you. I hear Ben shuffle in the mid-morning stillness and guilt waves over me. Most mornings I just listen as he pads around getting what he needs. Because most mornings, I just can't do it. At my best, I call out, 'Are you okay with those?' but at my worst, I pull the covers over my head and hope he's got it.