Friday, January 16, 2015
My cell phone ringing this morning woke me up. I answer it, and Ron says, "Are you sleeping?"
"Yes."
"OK. I'll talk to you later. Love you. Bye."
WHAT????
I tried to call him back, but there was no answer - it went to voicemail.
Let me tell you, I am awake and very worried now. But - what can I do? I don't even know where he is! Is he out picking up a dumpster? Is he at the landfill? What - what - what? I figured he would see my missed call and call me back.
He finally called back about an hour later, and the first thing he said then was, "Can you come and get me?" My brain explodes. This is my Ron? We talk a bit more, and he admits that he must have what I am getting over. I had thought so last night when I went to bed - he had gotten up 2 or 3 times, running for the bathroom and his stomach was making those funny sounds. He assured me then that he was fine (after he had gone to the bathroom), but I told him that I thought he sounded the same way I did on Monday night, and we both knew what happened then. Unfortunately, the symptoms that I spent Monday night/Tuesday morning fighting came out in him while he was at work. Instead of picking up Jungle Jim's garbage, he left them a little! (I know, not funny...) I let him know that I would be there as soon as I could.
I got him back home, took his temperature (99.7), and had him take a shower. After that, he flopped into his recliner, covered up with a quilt, and went promptly to sleep. I made sure that he had his phone, water, the remote, and anything else I could think of that he might need.
We both knew that I had errands to run today, and he told me that I should go ahead and do these errands, because 1) there is no other time to do them this weekend, and 2) he's going to be asleep, anyway. I finally agreed to go ahead and go, since I pretty much knew how he felt, and I was alone all day every day while he was at work.
While I am out doing my errands, one of which is doing the grocery shopping at WalMart, I get a phone call from my friend Bert. She has a doctor's appointment today, and wanted to know if we, with Corgan, wanted to come down and meet her when her appointment was over. Wow! You go, Bert! I explained that Ron was sick now and we wouldn't be getting Corgan this weekend - why spread the sickness - and that I was out shopping right now anyway.
We arranged to meet at Bob Evans after I am done shopping and she is done doctoring - Bert SURE doesn't want to go shopping with me! - and since I hadn't eaten yet today, my stomach still being a little wonky, this sounded good to me.
I perused the menu while I was waiting for her, because I wasn't sure what I could eat. When she got there, she knew what she wanted and we ordered right away. She got the Broasted Chicken 3-course dinner, and I settled on bacon and scrambled eggs (with banana nut bread, not biscuits), although MAN did other stuff sound and look good. It took me almost as long to eat my little meal as it did her to eat hers! Man, I hate being a wuss!
We sat there eating, talking, and laughing, as we always do, and next thing I know (I finally looked at my cell to see the time), it's almost 9 already. NINE!! Ai yi yi! We started with the getting-ready-to-leave everything, and finally left about half an hour later. She needed keys made, and I had told her that WalMart did it, so we went back up to WalMart. But, nooooo, there was no one back in automotive to do this and she ended up using the goofy machine up front. It tells you that if you buy 2 keys, you get 1, or money off, or something, but then you can only buy one key at a time. I guess it's possible to want 3 copies of the same key, but how often does that happen? At least they were cheap enough...
I finally get home, check on Ron, who had moved in to bed but was okay and glad I was home now, and so I get all the groceries carried in. I put away the stuff that goes in the fridge and I'll get the rest tomorrow.
I. Am. Beat.
If Ron feels up to it, we'll go up to Ruth's so he can look at her car more intensively tomorrow. If not, we'll stay home.
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