The last week has been even worse. Mike picked up some bug or other at the hospital last Saturday, feeling like he had a cold the first few days. By Tuesday afternoon he was really feeling ill and by Wednesday so bad he couldn't even get out of the chair without help. Along with the fever, sore throat and cough it certainly looks like 'flu. He managed to crawl to dialysis Thursday and Saturday, but the rest of the time he has mostly been horizontal. He is currently horizontal.
Now this is where things get tricky. My natural mothering instinct, one I adopted with my own children, is to offer food and drink on a frequent basis. The kids would usually install themselves on the sofa with a blanket and watch T.V., Mike is doing his hedgehog act as mentioned here and here. Not being able to anything at all to help is even more frustrating now we are alone in the house. Nearly a week of talking to myself is driving me to drink, literally it seems. In the cold light of day I know I shouldn't drown my sorrows, but try telling me that at seven in the evening.
It all feels so unfair. The dialysis is going well, they started to use the fistula on Saturday, the first step to learning how to do it at home. But just when things are improving on the one hand something always comes along to spoil it. I just want Mike back, even if it is only four days a week.