I’ve been home sick for two days and all I’ve accomplished is a work of anger.
It started when I came in the house on Tuesday night expecting dinner to be ready. I am diabetic. I need to eat at dinner time. I had given my son, who lives with me, money to go to the grocery store and buy something he could cook for dinner. He says he went, but saw nothing he felt like fixing. What?
He said maybe I’d like one of those TV dinners in the freezer? Did he mean the cheap ones I got for $1 and I only bought because of their cost? My stomach was queasy. I didn’t think I could keep one down. He fixed the expensive Chinese frozen dinner I’d bought for himself and went to bed. Last decent thing in the house, he scarfs it down and goes to bed. And I’m sick and diabetic.
I searched the empty cabinets. I sifted through the left overs and freezer. I found a frozen pizza and ate it. It wasn’t good. I slept badly all night and the next morning I got up and made a doctor’s appointment.
The doctor was in the room for about 10 minutes. He didn’t listen to me. He was eager to get to lunch. He prescribed an antibiotic and a nausea pill and said to stay home for two days.
So it’s the evening of the second day and I have been working all afternoon trying to fix some homemade soup. I think it’s almost ready. It’s a lot of work, but the only thing I think I can keep down.
Tomorrow I go back to work so I can pay bills so my retired son, who hasn’t worked a fulltime job, except for a few months in 2011, can enjoy his retirement.
I’m feeling grouchy and put upon. I hope that soup is ready. I really, really need to quit my day job.