Gary is miserable with this skin condition. He can’t regulate his temperature, it itches, it burns, it bleeds, he hurts on the outside and aches on the inside. And because he expresses himself, he wakes up and makes noise. A symphony of moaning and muttering. And then often groaning.
Usually I wake up and call out, “Are you okay, hon?”and he yells back, “Don’t worry about it! It’s not a problem!”
A few days ago he yelled, “It’s not a problem,” and I came to him and said, “You’re so tired I have to take off work to drive you to every doctor and dentist appointment you have. That’s a problem. I drove to the Social Security office without you to deliver your paperwork. That’s a problem. I’m doing every chore. This may not be a problem for you, but it’s a problem for me.”
And then I steeled myself for the hurt feelings and yelling, and then he said, “Well, if don’t like it ,I’ll just drive myself to my thing today.”
And I said, “What if we start by driving around the neighborhood, and if you feel too tired then I can take over.”
He said, “That sounds like a good idea.”
Rational. Courteous.This is how I imagine how your conversations with your spouses sound all the time.
Of course, the next day we were back to shouting and tears, because he felt particularly ill, but it was a nice respite. Hope for the future, maybe.