Life gives us difficulties. Sometimes they are physical, sometimes mental... and sometimes, you get them all rolled up into one.
And we roll with it.
I try my hardest to do everything I can do, no matter how I'm feeling. I try my hardest to be strong and let no one see my weaknesses.
The past week, my weaknesses have been showing...
A bit ago, I "hurt" my shoulder/arm... the whole shebang. I was doing something completely normal. I was telling my husband what to do. You know... SHOWING him what I meant, because... well... Husbands aren't always the best at listening. But I was going off to work, and well... he asked. So... reaching up (and walking, mind you...) to open a cabinet (to show him the bowing shelf), I slipped on water (the dog had dropped it off her beard when taking a drink...), heard the tear [totally hoping my mind emphasized it more than it really is], fell to my *ss and was immediately in pain.
The searing shot through my shoulder and the top portion of my arm. I swear, I felt it all the way to the bone. But... guess what? I had to leave in less than 15 minutes and still wasn't dressed!
So... I enlisted the help of my 19yo daughter. I couldn't take my shirt off. She gingerly helped me. Couldn't fasten my bra... and she did that, too. (I hate getting help. It kills me.) And I needed my hair in a ponytail. Thank goodness she was there, and hadn't gone out yet, because... Yes... you guessed it. She did that, too.
The drive kinda killed me. I am right-handed. An auto is pretty much right-handed (the shift is above the steering column on the right side; the ignition is on the right side...). So, ice pack in hand... I got there.
My job for that day/weekend was pretty stationary. (I'm a swim official [referee... whatever you wanna call it] that watches swim strokes, finishes, etc. and disqualifies based on infractions. There's really much more to it than that, but I really don't wanna go bore you. I love it.) The pool was short-course (25 yards, as opposed to long-course of 50 meters), and one side couldn't be "walked", so each of the officials on the corners stayed on the corner(s). I was good for the weekend, work-wise. My issues were going to be at home.
I have a lot of responsibilities. I do hand out "chores", but only I feel what is fair and what they each have time for with work, school, etc.
My daughter made sure she was there both Saturday and Sunday mornings to help me get ready. Each day, I was able to do just a little bit more. A couple pain-killers here, some ice packs there, with a touch of Icy-Hot in between, and I believed I was doing better.
But... the dishes were piling up. The floor wasn't getting done. Amongst other things. (by the way... as I sit here typing this, I have to lower the laptop down farther than normal for it to be comfortable...)
I did make a couple of requests and comments, asking for help with the dishes. To no avail. My husband simply won't do it, and doesn't understand (call it an ego trip... I do...) My 8yo doesn't do them as well as I'd like... and I'm kinda picky (rightfully so, right? we eat off this stuff...). And my 19yo? She simply did ONLY the dishes she used (which is ACTUALLY a normal thing each of them are supposed to do... but I usually have to tell each of them anyway, which irritates the crap out of me!), which were about 2 or 3 in a whole pile. I gave up... and did the dishes.
So painful and so taxing was that small-ish normal-type chore, that I slept off and on most of the day. I was still exhausted the next day. And in massive pain. My range-of-motion (rom) was getting better... but...
I let the dishes go again. Only doing them when they had to be done. And paying for it later. I also did the laundry this week. (That took WAY longer than normal!) When it was trash day... between me and the kids, we each have a share. The 8yo empties my bathroom and room, and her own room. I take out the laundry, recycles in the kitchen, and the garage trash. The 19yo takes out the other bathroom and kitchen trash. We all help with the "big" cans to the street. I sent a text to the 19yo, asking her to do mine and take out the big cans. There was no way I could lift stuff that high. My rom wasn't that high yet (and still isn't). No problem there... it was done.
But... I had asked for more help. And I keep getting brushed off on the rest of it.
What did me in was a combo of yesterday and today (this morning). It has brought me to tears.
Yesterday, I got the 8yo and myself a pedicure. The 19yo wanted a gel manicure. Okay. We deserve it. They've been sort of helping me... The 19yo was supposed to cut up a pineapple and watermelon for me, as I can't do that just yet, either.
I reminded her as she got in the car that she was still needed to do this. "I won't have time now." uh... WHAT? I let her know she could do at least one. She did. But... left the dishes for ME and had extra time but blew me off again.
Then, this morning... The 19yo is leaving (and hasn't done her regular weekly chore of cleaning the bathroom and putting away her clothes...). She says she's going to her boyfriend's house before work (he lives with his parents, too). That's no biggie but... She tells me, "I'm going to help him clean. He has relatives coming and can't do it himself." SERIOUSLY?
I reminded her that I've been asking for help, that I'm in a lot of pain... and she walked away from me with an immature, "Whatever..."
Ouch. That hurts almost as much as my right arm/shoulder.
Moral of the story? Since no one really wants to help, don't get hurt. Then you can still do everything yourself and get no attitude for it.