Worried Bitchiness

I am beside myself with worry.

I have been trying to keep Randall's being sick off of here simply because there is only so much I can say about it without it becoming monotonous.

But I have to vent.  I have to.

Randall started getting sick on Monday.  Out of nowhere.  Nausea, vomiting, all the normal stuff.

I asked him several times if he wanted/needed to go to the hospital.  He replied "No" every time.  He kept saying that it wasn't the usual stuff.  He said it felt like the flu.  Which I was totally inclined to believe because he was fevered.  So very, very fevered.

I did not sleep but maybe two hours Monday night.  He tossed and turned and puked.  And he was fevered.  He was nothing but sweat.  And would seek me out and try to snuggle with me.  There is nothing in this world like having a cold, clammy and simultaneously sweaty man touch you.

Tuesday the vomiting stopped.  He was able to sleep.  He woke up in the evening still feeling bad but feeling better than he had been feeling.  He could hold down water.  Even drank some chicken broth.

I thought all was well with the world.  I really should have known better.  I should know better than to let my guard down so easily.

Because once again, Wednesday morning it all started again.  I asked and asked and asked if he wanted to go to the hospital.

By the evening I was begging.  I was in tears.

I was mean.  No, I was an all out bitch.

At one point I stood over him trying to get him dressed and said to him, "I CAN NOT DO THIS ANY MORE!  I AM DONE.  FUCK THIS AND FUCK YOU!  I. AM. DONE!  I have been strong since Monday but I can not keep it up.  PLEASE GO TO THE HOSPITAL.  PLEASE?"

I felt like a complete asshole.

You wouldn't understand if you're not living in the moment.  And I wouldn't wish this experience on my worst enemy.

If he would just go to the hospital when it all starts, it might not be so bad.  But he will wait and wait and wait until he is so weak that he can barely walk.

And that isn't fair.  It causes harm to him and mental anguish to his family.

Don't take this the wrong way.  I love him.  I love him more than anything.  It just gets really hard to deal with.  Especially when it is week in and week out like it has been since before Christmas.

I know I have complained a lot about the in-laws.  A lot.  But I am thankful that FIL was here to take Randall to the hospital.  When I am as angry as I was last night?  I am no good at the hospital.  I am full of attitude and bitchiness.  Randall didn't need that.  He needed someone who was calm and collected.  Someone who could fight for him if it was needed and not end up in jail.

I could not physically bring myself to even offer to go.  I helped him to get dressed.  I helped him up.  He told me he loved me and they were gone.

Randall was admitted, again.  And once again, I have no clue how long he will be there.

I know I sound like a broken record.  But I will selfishly ask if you will say a prayer for him.  Please?

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