Hello everyone! I hope your July has been great so far. If you live in Columbus, or anywhere where it’s super hot, I hope you’ve been staying cool!
I’ve had a good July up until now; Business at work has been better than June, so I’ve been making good tips, I’m officially four different skin colors thanks to walking around in both work clothes and summer clothes, and I’ve been making progress on a lot of various things, like learning how to take care of plants, getting all the Shrines and the quests done in The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, and being able to learn more of the manager side of work.
Matthew, my husband, has not had a good July at all. This blog post is about him today, because the story is a lil’ wild.
It all started at Comfest last month. We went on a real hot day and got some bourbon chicken because I personally am obsessed with it. As I was scarfing down my food, Matt asked me, “Does your chicken taste funny?”
“Oh. Well mine tastes funny…”
That sentence began the whirlwind of events that were to come this month. He ended up getting salmonella from that chicken (thanks to a staff member who left the chicken freezer open in 90+ degree weather smh) and was miserable for a week. We went to the dentist and he couldn’t even be seen, which means we had to reschedule after driving to New Albany (a longish drive from our house). He’s terrified of dentists, so he just had to stew in that anxiety until today.
Over the past month, he has also been adjusting to a new medication for his heart. It lowers his blood pressure, and as a result, lowers his heartbeat as well. Twice in the past month he’s almost had to call the squad at work because he was first in stroke territory blood pressure wise, and a week later he almost had a heart attack because they doubled his dosage (luckily, after calling the doctor’s office, they told him to roll it back. Hopefully next time we go, we can get something that won’t almost kill him twice in one month!).
The real kicker of that medication, however, are the nightmares. Poor Matt has been having terrible nightmares about me, work, and just general scary things. He works 3rd shift, so when he goes to bed he needs to sleep or else he’ll ruin his sleep schedule. The nightmares make it almost impossible for him to get enough hours. Mix that with the fact that our A/C doesn’t quite reach up into our room and you have a sweaty, hot, terrified Matt wide awake at noon.
He has a history of sleepwalking. Apparently, the medication also makes him sleepwalk. Just the other day, Matt got out of bed, walked around the bedroom, put a shirt on, and got back into bed sideways, with his feet aimed at the fan. I bet he did that because he had hot feet! When he woke up, his right foot was swollen and bruised. He doesn’t know what he did to it, and I was at work at the time so I don’t know what he did either. What I think happened is that he kicked the bed frame at some point since it sticks out from the bottom of the mattress (we really should get some bumpers for that metal frame, because kicking it is no joke).
Yesterday (or today as I’m writing this) we went to urgent care to see if it was broken. Luckily, it wasn’t broken upon first look at the X-Ray’s, but they always send them in to get them looked at by a third party at this urgent care, so they might find something small that the ladies at the urgent care couldn’t see. Either way, they gave him crutches and he is having the time of his life trying to figure out how to use them (and play with them, of course). It’s genuinely the first time this month I’ve seen him happier than normal. I think he’s just happy he didn’t break his foot!
Matt is usually a pretty independent guy, but he turns into a big ol’ baby when he’s sick or in pain at all. I’ve been taking care of him since he ate that bourbon chicken. I will admit, it’s been hard to be patient because I am not a patient person…but at the same time, I love this man more than most things and people, so I don’t mind taking care of him at all! He would do the same for me if I were in his shoes.
I honestly think that while it’s hard to take care of someone who usually doesn’t need help at all, it’s kind of nice to have this role reversal. Most of the time I forget to eat, don’t remember to wash clothes for work, or forget my phone at home and realize it while we’re halfway down the road, and that’s not even the half of it. I blame both my depression and my ADHD for my forgetful brain, but I’m genuinely a forgetful person even while medicated.
Matt always makes sure I’ve had something to eat, or helps me with the laundry, or reminds me to grab everything before we leave the house (and if I end up forgetting something anyways, he usually turns around with minimal complaining). He helps me feel less dumb about being a forgetful person because he knows that I can’t help it, but he lets me take responsibility for my own actions when I do inevitably forget something in the way that he helps me approach a solution. Whether it’s indecisiveness about dinner, executive dysfunction about getting up and going to bed, or just handing me my phone when I can’t find it, he’s always there to help me be a functioning human.
In the same way that he helps me mentally, I try to help him physically everyday; I scratch his back when I know he’s itchy, and I help him with shaving his head or grooming his eyebrows, for example. I’m even his alarm clock, because by the time I get home from work, it’s usually time for him to wake up. His ailments this past month have presented a test to my helpfulness, as I am not used to him being so “needy,” for lack of a better term. I know I test him in my own ways as well. I’m very hard to get along with in the mornings, and I am frankly mean before I have my coffee. I also have little meltdowns from time to time, mostly because of mental over-stimulation. His patience is God-like in those kind of situations.
So my patience has had to step up its game the past few weeks. I think he can tell that it’s hard for me sometimes, but he knows I don’t want to see him in pain, so I do my best to help him in his time of need. Even if his time of need is a whole month of sicknesses and sprained ankles!
Things like this remind me of why we got married in the first place. I wouldn’t want to deal with anyone else’s bad month like this. It’s draining and stressful for both of us, and I know he’s so frustrated at his body for not doing what he wants it to do. Getting him water, tucking him into his random naps on the couch, and reminding him that he’s not a burden no matter how many times his anxious mind tells him he is is the least I can do to make his life a little easier the rest of this month, and for our lives together. After all, I did say “I do” to the sickness and health part of the vows!
That’s been our July in the Golubich household. I’ve been living my best life, while Matt has literally been falling apart. Making sure he’s happy and healthy is something that I always told him I would do, and July has for sure tested that vow. Luckily, I think Matt could say that I’m doing a pretty good job at keeping him happy. I can’t control his health, though, so hopefully his body gets its shit together!
Thanks for reading, everyone! Matt’s July has been crazy, so you know I had to write about it. If you want to keep up with him, you can always follow him on Twitter! And while you’re there, you can go ahead and follow me too. I tend to be a little more amusing than he is anyway! :)