There ain’t no such thing as a free lunch.

Morning all, hope you are well. My beloved made a goulash for his dinner, I have a lovely vegetarian soup. Young Master Duke is outside, barking his head off.

Today’s plan is to bake some beans for myself. I have a pressure cooker, and look forward to cooking. Since I redid the kitchen, I look forward more and more to my kitchen time.

Yesterday I spent the afternoon stitching while I made the soup. My beloved slept all day, and was surly when he got up. Here is what is going on.

His doctors have cut him off from pain medication in any form. Note: I approached one of his doctors over 15 years ago about his heavy pain medication use. I was ignored. I have no doubts that he is in pain. However, he takes his pain out on me.

By the way, my letting his doctor know about the pain med use years ago? Got me banned from going to dr visits with my husband, by the doctor himself. I guess the Dr’s kickback from big pharma was more important than my husband going through withdrawel back then.

Now, we pay the piper. I get it. Believe me, I get it. I live with chronic pain every day. I have medical problems. I get it. My husband is 68 years old now. I had to hide my personal carry and lock it up because I’m worried about him using it innapropriately.

Nothing else I can do. I’m still under the ban from going along on Dr visits. Recovery can never be forced on anyone. And to add insult to injury, it’s taken out on me.

To those who would suggest that I leave. My question is. Go where? My next move is likely to the nursing home. Young Master Duke would have to be put down. I’d likely be put in the same nursing home as my beloved at the same time. I’d probably even be put in the same room.

What solution would that be? There isn’t one. Add to that that the costs of long term care is so astronomical, that we could not afford it.

There is no good solution to this issue, to this problem. I’m a drug addict in recovery living every day with an addict who is withdrawing from pain medication. The irony is not lost on me.

Normally, I won’t talk on the blog about my husband’s addiction. However, the truth is. I’ve lived with this for so long that it is old hat. The reason I lived on the farm with Dad was because of my husband’s disease. The reason I moved to another town for a few months? His alcoholism had reared its head.

I watched as a cop reached for their gun because my husband had destroyed the house yet again. Yet recovery can never be forced on a person. I know for a fact that years ago my husband left recovery because I had it. I had over a decade of sobriety at that time.

The funny part? He’d been going to meetings longer than I had. He would have had…. yada yada. I know. The woulda coulda shoulda’s destroy serenity.

Every day sober, for me, is paid for dearly. I get to watch someone I do love and care for slowly waste away from the disease of addiction. This year, I waited to get my medallion and keytag. Wednesday night, I will sit in the garage and get it via zoom.

This is one of those realities. It’s life. It isn’t pleasant. -L

P.S. There are posts coming up that explain the kitchen rearrangement thing. Sorry.


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