FRUSTRATED

I often feel more like a servant than a human being. I'm unsure what God has planned for me, and like many others, I don't experience a life filled with joy, happiness, and well-being. I am in Lincoln, Nebraska, where Shelley will hold her father's “Celebration of Life” tomorrow. This time, I am more lenient toward her “it’s all about me” attitude, though I am tired.

Frustrated with constantly being her sherpa, I recently spent a trip to Utah as the full-time driver so she could relax and enjoy the scenery. I was the one lugging her enormous suitcase up and down stairs and accommodating her specific environmental preferences for our stay. I had to stick to her rigid schedule for meals and relaxation. She dictates what happens, where, when, and how, and I support her needs.

Yesterday was a prime example. I wanted to stop and pick up a Nebraska Softball sweatshirt to wear while watching today's game. She was unhappy with the request because she had a 4:30 PM Artistry Board meeting. Artistry meetings are constant and often dictate plans. I wish she would quit, as I have told her for years. It is a losing cause. There are limited donors, and the local theater trying to go big-time is not successful without a significant donor, which it lacks.

So I convinced her we could leave at 9:00 AM instead of 10:00 AM, thinking there would be plenty of time. Her first words were, “I was hoping to sleep in, get a walk in, and enjoy her leisurely breakfast.” She conceded, saying she has been getting up early all week and hasn’t slept well because of the pending event. We were up and out of the house by 9:00 AM. Of course, another Shelley moment. I put my protein drinks in a generic bag, and she immediately got all uptight. She said the drinks belong in a different bag. I asked what the difference was, and she replied that they need to be in order so things don’t get messed up. Once again, her way is non-negotiable. In addition, I spent the time packing the car and quickly had a protein smoothie. I figured that would be fine, as we can have an early dinner.

As we were leaving, I stayed on the passenger side in the garage. I had hoped she would drive for a bit. I could see her reluctance as she climbed into the driver’s seat. That was short-lived, as she soon said she felt sick. I think she realized she hadn’t gotten her way and that I would be the one to drive. So I took over the next 4 hours of driving! 

We stopped, and I grabbed a sweatshirt as planned. Quick and easy, maybe a 10-minute detour. Then Shelley decided she needed to search for a shirt. She looked, and looked, and looked. Couldn’t decide. 20 minutes later, she made a decision, and we were on our way, without the significant time cushion I had planned. When we arrived at the Annabell Gardens at 3:55 PM, I told her I was very hungry and did not want to eat late. The Doctor has said some of my health issues could be closely related to evening GERD and that I should restrict eating after 6:00 PM. I have told Shelley this at least 50 times. Even when the Doctor first emphasized it, and she was still working, we kept her schedule and ate at 7:00 PM, since she got home from work at 6:00 PM.

So I thought I would cook. Then it got cold because she would arrive at 7:00 PM. I started cooking early to eat alone, but that made things worse because I was now disrespecting her, her job, and her responsibilities, which led to a later dinner. This set the stage for yesterday.

As I mentioned earlier, I told her I preferred not to eat late. She replied that her meeting would end by 5:30 PM and suggested we could quickly grab something afterward. I waited, hungry, having had only a smoothie and a handful of nuts all day. Time dragged on, and by 6:00 PM, I resorted to a protein shake for dinner. Meanwhile, she kept chatting, and it was almost 6:30 PM when we finally headed to Pinera for her dinner. I felt a wave of disappointment again, despite repeatedly expressing my desire not to eat late. It seemed once more that her responsibilities and wishes took precedence. If I had gone to eat at 4:30 PM, as I preferred, she likely would have criticized me or at least made her disapproval known.

So here I was, very disappointed again! Then she tells me she told the Artistry Board she is available until 2:00 PM today for anything. We came here early to verify preparations and relax. Also, being here yesterday meant I could catch some softball games instead of having to drive today. I have talked about wanting to watch the series for months! That was also squashed, as Shelley reminded me we are here for her father’s funeral, and if I have to miss those games to accommodate the plans, so be it! I get it. That means if she needs me to drive her around, I need to be ready on her cue!

So upset, I went to the lobby, where she joined me later. I then asked her whether her aunt could navigate the stairs. She looked at me like I had lost my mind, but then realized the meeting room she had was on the second floor with no elevator. Well, this has now become my problem to solve for her!

I had had enough and retreated to the room, where I obsessively worked on the genealogy conversion and the baseball schedules before finally going to bed. Shelly had the fan blasting on high, and the temperature hovered near 60 degrees. I was freezing, shivering uncontrollably. When I mentioned the frigid temperature and the relentless fan to her, the look she shot me was dead, murderous. I endured it, desperately trying to sleep. But trying is the keyword—my body's used to my upstairs room being at least 15 degrees warmer than her icy chamber at night. I’d acclimated, or so I thought. She doesn’t adapt; instead, she keeps her room chillingly cold and the fan running year-round, with a disturbing, unwavering conviction.

And then comes her snoring. She complains to me if the C-PAP is too loud. But I need to sleep with earplugs, and she brushes it off like I should not expect her to stop snoring. It’s natural for her, but me, by god better not turn over in the night in fear of waking her!

Sorry for the venting, but I needed to write it down, as that helps with the emotions. Yet I am tired of being a full-time servant rather than a friend.

Carry on my friends, carry on!

Sick again

 I was concerned about what was happening. Midway through our vacation last week, my voice suddenly disappeared. The pain in my throat was so severe that swallowing became difficult, and it even kept me awake at night. Despite this, I managed to make the rest of the vacation a good experience for Shelley. That was important to me because she had lost her father two weeks earlier, which had been very difficult for her. It was clear how much he meant to her, as I observed them together for 12 hours each day during his last two days.

In my process of overcoming personal challenges, I often prefer composing songs rather than jotting notes in a diary. Over the past 35 years, I have written more than 100 songs. The advent of artificial intelligence has been a wonderful development, allowing me to set some of my lyrics to music. This has been nice. One such song I composed reflects on Shelley and my father's final days, capturing my observations during that time.

Put on the Husker shirt makes him look proud and tall

Angels hang outside the window, waiting to take it all

His hands were worn as hickory, his heart is so soft and low

And I knew by the silence, it was time to let Papa go

She holds his hand steady, and he tries to smile

Like he was saying, “Come sit with me a while.”

The clock stops ticking, like he knew what I knew

There ain’t a storm that teaches a lesson, Of what goodbyes can do

[Chorus]

Time to let papa go (time to let papa go)

Lay him down slow (lay him down slow)

If love is a river, it still has to flow

But it’s Time to let Papa go (time to let papa go)

The lights burn gold, from the halo on his head

Songs on the radio say, There is more to be said

He clings to her hand tightly, trying to be strong

But he knows he must let go, life is almost gone

She tells him old stories, and he squeezes her hand tight

Like saying “keep your heart open.”, “Don’t you lose your light”

Then his room got quieter; there is quiet outside

As she kissed his rough forehead, I saw her whole world in my eyes

REPEAT CHORUS

She recalls the lessons he provided during his time

He gave her strong roots; this is a reason and a sign

She will carry his stories deep into her chest

When her hands get shaky, she’ll do her best

REPEAT CHORUS

REPEAT CHORUS

Oh, they loved him with all their heart

Now they have to  let him go

I digressed - as I often do!  After returning from the trip, I went to the doctor. I thought of four possible causes:

1. I had been bitten by two ticks, one of which was embedded deep in my skin. It was very small and light brown. I was concerned about Lyme disease because I was experiencing tingling and a couple of headaches. 
2. We are at 8,500 feet, and the air is dry. I thought that, and the potential for altitude sickness was the cause. Especially since I started feeling bad 18 hours after being at a higher elevation.
3. I thought it might be strep throat, but since Shelley wasn't getting sick, I wasn’t sure that was valid. 
4. I thought I might be having major problems with my GERD. I do know that his throat issues can often be caused by acid reflux, which has been a problem for me. At home, I sleep with the head of my bed elevated anywhere from 8 to 10 inches. On the trip, however, that was not possible. I was lying flat and eating late, which is common.

The doctor conducted a comprehensive series of tests and X-rays. The results were reassuring, ruling out Lyme disease, tick-borne illnesses, and strep. The X-ray also showed no signs of pneumonia or other related complications. However, a concerning aspect was that my hemoglobin level was again low at 41 ug/dL, significantly below baseline at 61 ug/dL. Additionally, my iron saturation index was 11%, which is below the normal baseline of 15%. Further tests revealed that my MCH was low at 25.4 pg/mL compared to the baseline of 26.5 pg/mL, and my MCHC was 30.9 g/dL, below the standard of 34.5 g/dL. My physician said to rest and come back if it doesn’t improve.

Despite the favorable results, I continue to experience dizziness and fatigue, and there has been no improvement in my voice or throat. After conducting research, I believe these symptoms may be related to GERD. Specifically, I suspect Laryngopharyngeal Reflux (LPR), also known as "silent reflux." This condition involves acid reaching the larynx and pharynx without typical heartburn, resulting in chronic hoarseness, a sensation of a lump in the throat, and a persistent need to clear the throat. Chronic acid exposure can cause inflammation (laryngitis), and over time, may lead to the formation of nodules or polyps on the vocal cords, which can alter the pitch and strength of the voice, as illustrated in this video. I plan to resume proton pump inhibitors (PPIs), despite my reservations, due to their potential impact on memory and long-term cognitive health. In the past, I have noticed memory issues when taking them.

What I hate most is that I was doing well for three weeks, losing weight, and then I got sick. As an afterthought, I wondered if the illness might have been COVID. Then I had two good weeks, and this illness hit. I really am getting tired of this roller coaster! 

I need to carry on!