Pedal Another Mile

Bicycling, death, life after death.


First the good news - the streak of my waking up, heart racing, from a nightmare in which I am already dead and this is my personal hell - watching my wife suffer for eternity, never to die and be at peace, has stopped at three nights. It didn't happen last night. I slept well. About 10 hours or so, not 12, but I'll take it.

Now Margaret on the other hand, had her hands full. Margaret got what I got Sunday night/Monday morning. But it sounds like she got it worse. The suppositories (one every two hours, like clockwork) had about 14 minutes of effect on Billy Jo. 

She slept 14 minutes after each dose, and then it would take 30 or more to calm her down. She is trying to get around the bars by heading towards the foot of the bed, no pain on her face. Her newest attempts are now to try and go OVER the bars. She also lifted her entire body up with her rail-thin arms and stayed in that position for over two minutes.

She's swearing at her, she's ripping off her briefs, she's seeing people not there, and since yesterday has been saying something about a baby. Constantly. I hope it's not regret and sorrow that she had to get a hysterectomy before we had kids, because that is not an unresolved issue that is resolvable. 

Apparently Wrigley was so scared she crapped on the hallway carpet, so I cleaned that up.

We have moved to two suppositories now every two hours. If this doesn't do it then it's back to the drawing board. I'm not sure what time the nurse gets here. Right now, Billy Jo is sleeping and Margaret is finally getting some rest.

I think I'm going to try and nap now - I have a feeling it's going to be another long, hectic day.

Margaret is awesome. I am completely comfortable with my decision. She went through a night of hell and let me sleep through the whole thing. 

That's the sign of awesomeness.