Where's the Silver Lining?

Who cares?

I haven't written much in my journal lately, not after having someone jump me because I dared to voice my inner feeling here. I became a bit "gun shy" after that. Then I decided, "Wait! This is my journal, and if I write what I feel and am not hurting anyone, who cares what anyone else says? After all, I'm not forcing anyone to read what I have to say."

Therefore, I will write my inner thoughts and feelings as long as I'm not hurting anyone. If a reader disagrees with what I say, that person can go eat a pickle.

A few things have happened. I didn't realize how closely the hospice nurses and aides were watching me when they're here to check on Robert. They had reported that I wasn't doing well with my lupus. Yes, it has flaired up since I've been so sick, but I didn't think anyone noticed.

The hospice social worker came for a visit yesterday, and she visited with me away from Robert. She suggested that I might want to place Robert in a nursing facility because I wasn't doing well.

What? As I told her, I wouldn't consider it because that would be a death sentence for him. All that keeps him going is being able to be home and work on his "projects." I wouldn't dream of having him put into a home unless he becomes bedfast and I can't tend to him.

Even if he were in a home, nothing would be easier on me because I would have to travel to and from there - and I would be with him most of the time. I couldn't rest when I needed to then. No, that option isn't really an option.

I told Randy what I told the social worker, and he said, too, that wouldn't work unless we were ready to be rid of him.

Uh, I don't think so. Robert promised me at least fifty years when we were married, and I want to give him as much help to keep his promise as I can.

God willing, he will be with me at least another seven years - or longer.