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Thanks for visiting Sauce du Jour. Feel free to share a great recipe, leave a comment, or make me dinner. I'll bring hors d' oeuvres and the wine! To visit my website go to www.tamaralittrell.com Thanks for visiting the Sauce ~Tammi

May 7, 2013

Poor Bastard and the Caregiver



Many of you know that my hubs, The Big Guy is about a week away from under going a bone marrow transplant. What you may not know is that by default, I am his Caregiver.  Part of the requirement is that I attend a “Caregiver Class.”   

First let me just say that I am saddened to think that Big must have drawn the short straw in life when he ended up with me as his Caregiver.
     You see, I’m a puker. Poop, blood and all things bodily fluid make me gag like only cat shit can. You hawk a loogie in front of me and I will throw up on you.

With Sierra in tow, we sat down with a big three-ring binder full of instructions. I opened the book and it fell open to the page titled, “RECTAL CARE.”  WHAAAA????  NOOOOO!!!!  I mean, I didn’t even know there was such a thing. 
     Shit, I’m in too deep, I thought (no pun intended). I’m too squeamish to do this because I’m a card carrying puker and I am not a sympathetic person. Empathetic, yes. Sympathetic, no.  
     I was dying inside; afraid to turn the page because I just knew it was going to say “TOE NAIL CLIPPING PROTOCOL” and this would be when I passed out.

I have no unrealistic expectations of graduating at the top of my class, in fact if my patient (The Big Guy) survives my Nurse Ratchet ways, well my work here is done and I’ll head straight to my next therapy session.  I was still shaking my head in disbelief at Big’s bad luck…MDS and ME, in the same lifetime. Poor bastard.

Then a lady a few rows behind me asked if the Caregiver was expected to stay with the patient 24/7, or if the Caregiver were allowed to slip away for a little while to go shopping. My ears perked up and I practically choked on my own spit, but I knew I’d found my soul mate.  My head spun around ala Exorcist to see who this woman was, and better yet to see who her poor bastard was. 
     I had just been studying my own neglected pedicure and had now found a woman after my own heart. I could almost see us in neighboring spa chairs comparing chemo reigmens.

The subject changed to what was considered an emergency and what warranted a trip to the ER.  
      Temperature spike—yes, bleeding—yes, the shakes—yes, uncontrolled vomiting and diarrhea—hell to the yes!   
     While the real Caregivers where busy asking logical questions, like: are the chills reason to go the ER? (yes), the only thing I could think to ask was, has a Caregiver ever been diagnosed with Munchausen by Proxy Syndrome.

(Authors note:  If you don’t know what that is, click here. When you quit laughing, go back to feeling sorry for The Big Guy because he got ME for a Caregiver. 
   
I leaned over and whispered the question to Sierra, who spewed Diet Dr. Pepper from her nose. And she’s a real nurse so I decided to save the question for after class. That, and I didn't want to scare off my new best friend before we had a chance to bond over French manicures.

Gawd, I hope there is not going to be test. I love this man and I’m sure when the time comes I’ll rally and be able to hand him a Kleenix, should the need arise. Pray for him!

 Poor Bastard and The Caregiver, on our way to class.








6 comments:

  1. You frickin make me laugh!!! I am Praying for the big guy, but know in my heart that you will do fine with your care-giving! Heck you raised 2 beautiful daughters and survived that! Take care and God Bless you both.

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    1. Thanks for the vote of confidence Lori, and you are right...after raising two daughters this should be as easy as root canal.
      Thanks for reading the Sauce and for being so supportive!

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  2. I will pray - not that I am church goin Bible thumpin retard but I think on altruistic matters the Good Lord listens to me - although I did not get the shovelhead Harley I prayed for and that was 100% altruistic cause I was gonna donate it to charity when the summer was over...
    I will pray for both of you! especially the big guy! Between sips of moonshine because I wax more poetic with God drinkin!

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    1. Hey Billybob, it sounds like you and me have the same relationship with The Lord, which now explains why that shovel head fell into my lap last summer. Donate it? Hmmmm, let me get back to you on that. Thanks for reading the Sauce!

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  3. I just wanted to share a quick story regarding the fact that you are a puker.... if that is even a word... I will never forget when I got to go with you and Savannah to get your tatoo touched up. The queen tattoo that I always thought was Soooo cool. Anyway, we walked in and there was a girl getting her tongue pierced. You immediately turned white, ran outside, and threw up. Just a little memory I wanted to share with you!
    Jessica Lechner

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    1. Hahaha Jess, I remember that too. We had just eaten at a Chinese buffet and I spewed chicken chow mein, sweet and sour shrimp, egg rolls, and then some. I don't think I've eaten at a Chinese buffet since. Yep....The Big Guy is so SCREWED!

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