I thought I had posted yesterday and looked back to see it was WEDNESDAY.  Roger and I both are losing track of time.  It all blends together.  I can keep track for work stuff but lose track for anything beyond that. 

Tonight will have to be a quick post.  I'm pooped.  Roger is pooped.  So, here's the quick scoop.

Pain was up today.  The nurse came to change out his medicine and bring a new supply as well as change his port access.  She was a diiiinnnnnngggggg baaaattt.  Every other word was "is this how your regular nurse does this?  What kind of tubing are they using?  Oh, I'm not familiar with that."  Gotta tell you, she did NOT instill any level of confidence in me.  I hovered to act as a double check.  Kinda think it was a good thing.  She was nice enough and all.  I just don't get the impression she calls on patients much.  Our nurse had an emergency and couldn't make it to see us.  Oh, well.  We just learn to be more diligent in our watch. 

Roger has been chasing the pain most of the day and hasn't been able to get comfortable.  We've shifted pillows alot.  Moved him from the bed to the recliner to the bed to the recliner.  He has also complained of some shortness of breath.  We've shifted this evening to the bed.  I've set up my bed next to his a little earlier than normal.  Hoping we have as good a night sleep as last night (10:30 - 6:00!!!).  I'm apprehensive.  As I type, Roger is using this device with a compressor to suck the phlegm and mucos out of his mouth and throat.  So the load rumble of a small compressor shakes our family room.  Cats usually scatter when I turn on the machine.  Regardless, it seems to help. 

Despite being in pain and pretty tired, Roger did have a couple funny moments albeit humor not to be shared in "polite" company.  The first (which will NOT be spelled out) was this morning.  He had taken a sip of drink.  I turned to see him with his cheeks full falling back asleep.  I tapped his arm and said "dude, you're not a chipmunk.  Either swallow or spit that out."... a moment later he whispered, "that sounds like a joke that goes...."  and here is where I will NOT spell out the comment but had to do with swallowing or spitting.  Such a funny guy.  NOT.  Then later in the day, Paul had stopped by to pick up something.  As Paul sat next to Roger, Roger dropped something or asked me to do something at his feet (I've blocked out WHAT he asked me to do).  I stood up to see my skinny husband giving Paul a high five and saying to me, "I managed to look down your shirt AND Paul got a look too."  REALLY???  REALLY????  The man just isn't right.  Granted, he has a twisted sense of humor which trickles out when I least expect it.  Funny man.

We've had some serious conversations lately.  As we have many times over the years.  They are just so much more poignant now. 

Well, gotta go.  As I mentioned at the start of this post.  I'm pooped.  He's pooped.  Cats are pooped.  Whole lotta pooped on this end.  xxooxxoo ~ a & r