You know that scene in the Green Mile when Tom Hanks aka Boss has a urinary tract infection and he collapses to the ground clutching his groin sweating bullets? Yeah, that's me. Except I don't have a groin nor am I Tom Hanks.
Two Novembers ago I ended up in the E.R. because of this. Now all I can do is breathe while I pee, and then sweat it out leaning against the bathroom door clutching myself like a five year old girl who needs to pee really bad while I moan and silently pray for the pain to stop. I'm fine eight minutes later until I start to feel like I have to pee again. Then repeat process. I have seven days of this to go until I can see my urologist.
Mike and I slept at the house last night. It was pretty bad. Thank God he was there or I would have left half way through my discomfort. Screens are missing from our windows so we couldn't open many windows and it was itchy from the several inches of construction dust everywhere. Yeah, supposively my carpets were cleaned. 'I did them myself', said my landlord. I vacuumed one area of the living room last night where we were going to sleep and I sucked up four inches of thick, tan colored dust from said clean carpet. My patience is wearing.
Showering this morning took twice as long as usual because the water pressure and the shower head are so awful. We all wipe our noses in the shower. The water didn't even get that crap off my hand. I don't know how I got all the soap off me and out of my hair. The head just kind of spat at me for half an hour.
Other than that, things are shaping up. I'm leaving work early today and making Mike take me to Lowe's for screens and a shower head.
Yeah, I'm pretty damn miserable. Thank God for Mike and his optimism and his ability to prevent me from breakdowns or cursing fits or crying jags. Yes, Mike is good. To date, not one tear has been shed in new home.
I'm getting wasted tonight. I'll sleep great because I plan to pass out. Housework should be fun. This I am excited for.