It wasn’t even seven o’clock in the morning and the day started off a bit rough. Nothing major, mind you, but rough just the same (for me). I guess it’s always something. I don’t think too much about the challenges of the day ahead or I might just find myself curled-up in the fetal position sucking my thumb.
Today, well, it’s urine. You heard me right… urine. Twice already I did major mop-ups followed by changing everything on Ryan. I cringe at the amount of laundry we produce, making Sue spend entire weekends (and most week nights) running upstairs to switch out and fold loads, even with people helping occasionally. She never gets a day off, moving from her career to Ryan’s care. How does she do it? I worry about her.
Equal to the laundry is the garbage that goes out to the curb twice a week. With so much of medical and personal care products being disposable or single-use, its unavoidable. I kid you not (and I’m sure my neighbors would back me up on this), the bags-upon-bags (and boxes) of trash must be breaking some sort of environmental or health law. I keep expecting a nasty letter from the disposal company or the county health agency (or my neighbors!) telling us to knock it off.
Brain injury is so messy. In turn, our life is messy. Messy, but sterile.