Saturday, November 7, 2015

In which I am a big fat bitch about my own husband and I feel guilty about it

I am the biggest bitch in the world because I do not want to talk to my husband, who has spent the entire day dealing with his dad's diarrhea, refusal to eat, refusal to do physical therapy, and with the incessant phone calls from Ted.

I got to work at 7:15 this morning after a long weekend with houseguests and a cranky husband. I spent the day at work with a new computer that will not do what I want - I have submitted I think five tickets already for a computer I have had six work days.

I got home, fed the cats, did some more work, completely re-did my password for this blog because apparently, when I signed up for google analytics, everything changed on the blog as well - damn you google and your acquisition of blogger, went to tennis, which I did not feel like doing but I hate wasting money I have spent for tennis classes more than I hate going to a doubles class by myself, even though the only reason I signed up for the class was to take it with Primo.

I got back to my car after class and saw that Primo had called.

I called him before I even started the car.

He always calls me on his drive back from the rehab center.

We talked for a minute and then he complained about the noise. "What's that noise? Is that music? What is that? I can't hear you!"

"I don't have the radio on," I answered.

"Are you in the car?" he asked.


"It's too noisy. Why don't you just call me when you get home?"

Because when I get home, I don't want to talk on the phone. I want to talk on the phone while I am in the car because then I am not using time I could be using to read a book or watch the last three episodes of Revenge to talk on the phone.

See what I mean?

My husband has literally been dealing with shit - OK, someone else has had to clean it up, but that's what he has had to talk about all day - and I do not want to talk to him.

I am a bitch.

But I do talk to Primo.

And we talk about Sly's diarrhea, some of which might be because he has been taking a lot of antibiotics for a UTI (no, I didn't know men could get them, either), which he got because he won't drink water.

We talked about how Sly told Primo to bring him his low dosage Cialis pills from home but not the high dosage. Low dose is for urinating. High dose is for something I did not think 81 year old men did.

And I am worn out because I do not want to be the person who does not get to bitch but is only bitched to.


  1. Dear Goldie,
    If it's any consolation, I don't think that not wanting to have to hear about Sly and the ordeals he puts Primo through after a long day which followed a long weekend which comes after many, many long months makes you a bitch. I think it makes you human. But not a bitch.

    I think that you are underestimating the effort it takes to be as you put it "the only one not effing up" Primo's life all the time. And sometimes you need a break! And that's Okay! (Which is not to belittle Primo's experience, I just think you're having a rough time too.)

    Just my unasked for, completely inexperienced/ unqualified 2 cents from far away, on the internet.

    Love from Hephaestia.

  2. That is what we are here for, and we are happy to perform this publiic service for both you and Primo.

    Will this blog ever go real time? Just wondering...

    1. Hi Joan - thank you. No, I don't think I will go real time. It is Nov 9 and I am writing posts into March now.

  3. It is absolutely a thing to run out of ability to be supportive. To need a break and say "I just can't today. I love you but I can't today."

    That Primo is who he is in terms of feeling responsible, etc. for taking care of his dad doesn't mean that it comes without cost in terms of the other people and other relationships in his life.

    No. You don't want to be a drain on him and making his life harder. But at the same time, there is nothing bitchy about needing a break yourself during ongoing-not-actively-a-crisis time. Nothing at all. He's going through a lot, but so are you holding up your end of this tent, making it possible for him to do his end. Doing a permanent cut and run would be bitchy. Not saying "Not tonight. I need to not deal with this tonight please. Tomorrow, okay?"

    - Anonymous Cat

    1. Thanks, Cat. Part of it is that I have already been through the caring of a sick parent. I think I have paid my dues on that one! I don't want to have to support a sick parent who isn't even nice. (My dad was a sweetheart.)

    2. Eh. You joined a partnership and that means you took on more dues along with that.

      BUT. There's not only one way to pay your dues, and what you can and are able to invest certainly depends in some part on the particular person and what they are willing to do to help themselves/the people who are there to help them.

      I loved my grandfather, but he went through some real cranky bastard periods for awhile there while he lost more and more of his independence. We (as a family) had a bunch of talks about how to deal with it, and how we were dividing up who was doing what so that we could support each other and do our best not to feel overwhelmed.

    3. Anon, I think there was a specific clause in our wedding vows excluding daily care for a jerk FIL. :) I know there was a politics exclusion. (It was implied. Running for office is so far out of bounds from "for worse" that it can invalidate a marriage immediately.)

  4. It is not bitchy to not want to hear about problems you've tried to solve that people have ignored your solutions for, or to want some time on your own in which you are not the recipient of bitching, or to tell your husband, 'I love you, but I cannot hear you complain about your father/Ted/Jack any more right now. I am at the end of my rope, too, because while, yes, you are dealing with Sly in person, I am dealing with you dealing with him AND I am still working AND you have been cranky about this with me. I need a break. I love you, but I just can't right now.'

    1. Oh Lauren - YES! Primo and I have been trying to get Sly and Doris to take action for years. And yes, I am cranky about being the person who is supporting the person who is supporting a jerk who does not deserve it.

  5. You two have been in crisis mode handling for wonder you feel burnt out. I wish I could wave a magic wand and give you a weekend with books and brownies and no phone access. I am sure you would feel much better!

    1. I wish you could wave that wand, too, Anon! Brownies! No phone! I think that would cure just about anything.