My husband woke me up in a panic because the dog was "throwing up everywhere" and my mother had sat down on her rollator he said fell asleep and almost fell out on the floor, he had to catch her. So I was in a panic when I woke up. Mama has A-fib sometimes, even with a pacemaker and she blacks out. At least she felt it coming on and sat down and he walked by at the right time. They have changed her meds up and can't find anything that stops it. She didn't want to go to the hospital so I got her to her recliner and got her settled until it passed.
I got the dog's stomach meds and gave her one. She had her flea and tick meds last night and she often has a stomach reaction. Within the hour she was feeling fine.
Got a pot of coffee going and sat down with Mama to keep an eye on her. The next thing I knew it was past lunchtime and we hadn't even had breakfast in all the drama. Got us something to eat and didn't realize it was Wednesday until later.
I will say that on Sunday I was up two, yesterday I was back to what I was last week. I am still eating too many sweets because sweet and bitter are still all I can taste. But then again with the constant drama I am surprised that I am not eating all the time whether I can taste it or not.
Take for instance my husband also discovered that the shower in our bathroom was not very warm this morning. He discovered that the breaker had blown. Turned it back on and later in the day found it blown again. Inspected the water heater and didn't find anything wrong with it but found that the breaker was weak so he went to the office and got a new one. Got it installed just fine, but as he was putting the cover back on he had me come to hand him the screw gun and screws while he put the heavy cover in place because there was nothing to set them on in reach of him. We were discussing that there was one screw short when the fire went everywhere. Oops. There had been one screw intentionally left out because the electrician had been too lazy to put the wrap around it and anchor it to the back of the box so it wouldn't get close enough to the sides for a screw to catch. Instantly melted off almost half an inch of the screw, singed our clothes and hair, turned the wall black around the box, and scared us to death. Thank God for drills with rubber grips and rubber-soled shoes. This was not on the side that the main breaker breaks, this was off the main trunk that we can't turn off and is not supposed to be where people can get to it. Now we have to have an electrician come out tomorrow and run a new main trunk into the house and this time do it correctly. To think this box has an inspector's tag still on it. And you wonder why I have an emotional eating problem. We are one ringleader short of a circus here and somebody has to pretend to be calm and get things done.
Sorry so long. I can't eat and type at the same time.
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