I'm sitting here at my desk posting one political entry then writing and posting another, shorter one. Don't worry that it's going to be all politics all of the time because my brain might explode. (Every time I write something like that about how I feel after too much concentration, I wonder when it will happen literally.) While writing and making up for time lost to technical issues last night, I have been nursing tiny pieces of one of the world's great chocolate bars. I have loved Hershey's "Special Dark" mildly sweet chocolate since the first time my father let me try a bite of his.
As I sat here letting each tiny piece melt into my mouth, I thought of my beloved Wifey. She bought me the "Special Dark" bar and the almost as good "Krackle" bar as a small wedding anniversary gift. She bought me my two favorite chocolate bars but didn't deliver them on our actual anniversary. I can't be absolutely sure but I believe that I was in bad shape that day. It was less than a week after my most recent pain doc appointment so I was suffering from that. At some point afterward, several more teeth broke off leaving me in howling agony. Her trip out to get me whiskey probably saved my sanity. Her acceptance of my desperate methods kept me from spiraling down into guilt about it.
Now, we find ourselves in a situation that must be handled carefully. (Oh, thank God! I just realized that one entire wing of this crisis was simply a remembered nightmare. No matter how poorly we've gotten along, I'd never be happy to see my parents dead. Stupid nightmares are so impossibly realistic!) On top of the precarious situation, I found myself looking at a nightmare scenario. We had essentially no food and I had no whiskey plus the weather forecast is a weekend of cold weather and rain after our mini-heat wave. I was going to spend a few days in horrible agony while also hungry and everything my imagination could cook up.
I brought up this nightmare scenario to my beloved last night to prepare her for everything she might hear. That's when she told me that she saw this coming while I was still crushed by the last bout. She bought me what I needed when she got my medicine last week. The pharmacy and insurance company combined to make sure that I was short one day on my super-dangerous narcotic. The insurance company decided that my 28 day screipt couldn't be filled until the day I would run out. My beloved wifey had to work from before the location I'm permitted to use opened for the day until after they closed. All I could do was ration the medicine and so it worked out alright but there was residual pain.
Two days later, she saw this crisis coming and bought me whiskey that she kept hidden in the car. Now, I don't drink every day though it might seem that way so a couple of days without any is nothing to worry about in decent weather. When I'm stressed like I am over our big problem, I would be tempted to have a drink to help me sleep in the morning but it was out of sight/out of mind. She knew all of this and knew how badly I'd react to a cold and rainy Saturday.
For too many reasons to state, she is simply the best and I'm so lucky to have her.
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