I have been with hubby pretty much all the week. We have met all the Hospice team, so next week will be a little more relaxed.
I haven’t been to the gym on U.S.19, because a 20 minute drive each way isn’t on anymore. I have tried to get to the other gym, but not to any of my classes, as hubby sleeps in until whenever he wakes. No two days are the same.
The one fitness thing I wanted to do today was my 30 minutes boxing with my trainer. It takes me 7 minutes to get there, and 4 or 5 to get home. Hubby was completely settled, everything was checked, everything taken, and a full glass of drink on the triple coffee table in front of him.
Patrick is a great trainer, and when he smiles, it puts a smile on my face, no matter how I am feeling. He eggs me on to hit harder, and make him feel the punches through the pads. I get great satisfaction from him pushing me.
It’s straight into the car, and got back in 4 minutes. Hubby is bleeding, one of the tables is bent, and everything on the floor. Somehow he had grabbed his full drink and toppled over. He had managed to crawl back to the chair. I cleaned him up, took off his shirt, and soaked it in cold water to get the blood out of it. I cleaned up everywhere but have pretty much given up on the carpet.
Tonight I got the 2nd patio chair almost together while hubby had a one and a half hour sleep. Just 3 more screws to go in it. Hubby woke up so I came over to him. He was totally confused, picked up his drink, held the straw, and let the glass fall to the carpet with the drink all over him, the sofa, and a different part of the carpet.
The ‘new normal’ is a very strange one, but I have to adapt to it.