As I crawled into my disgustingly dirty bed sheets at 67 weeks of treatment I am irritated and pissed off over how much chaos my whole life is in since beginning my Hep C treatment. I know that my sheets are dirty, but I have no energy to pull the sheets off the bed, vacuum the bed and pillows, wash the sheets in hot water and remake the bed. I am resentful and disgusted that I have to put up with this situation. The Others here are asked to take the sheets off the bed and wash them for me, but it’s been many weeks and I just cannot do it myself. They conveniently forget within a few minutes.
I cannot find a set of towels that match and every cupboard in the house is in complete shambles. The Others ask me where things are and I cannot even figure out where they’d be because the Others have shoved them into places I’ll never find. The Others look at me for decisions what bowl to put the chips in and I just look at them and tell them to figure it out. I hardly care if they serve them in a jam jar. I have not been the hostess extraordinaire this year and a half, but they still think I know where things are in the house.
The Others still won’t make an effort to replace the toilet roll, refill the paper towel roll, refill the soap trays and containers, make fresh ice or put stuff away. So, guess who still has to do it at the times when I need the items. It’s like they reappear like magic to them. I resent it terribly because I waste my energy on those little things and cannot focus on big things I need to do like struggling to make something to eat, grooming myself, cleaning the toilets, etc.
Christmas dinner was held here. I was on tx last Christmas and it was extremely rough. This Christmas was the same. However, my 81 year old Mom was hell bent that I wouldn’t have to do anything. She is nearly 82 (in February) and she caved on me by 1:30 p.m. Christmas day with a houseful of people and dinner to be served at 6 p.m. My sis and her husband were forced to peel vegetables and they were shocked that they had to do it. When I wasn’t on treatment I did most of it. I didn’t care what they thought this Christmas as I warned them I couldn’t do it. My Mom doesn’t know I’m on long term treatment for Hep C. She thinks I have an autoimmune disorder and the medication is pretty rough right now. My sister knows that I am on tx for Hep C and she said to me on the phone earlier in the week...”Well, you only have five weeks left...”
Of course, my in laws came very early, and nothing kills a happy conversation so quickly as my Mother-In-Law. My rellies sat there in almost stonie silence once she arrived.
I sat on my arse and hardly moved as I couldn’t do a thing. Husband was in charge of turning on the oven (so I wouldn’t have to deal with it) and after the turkey was in for an hour I asked why the fan was running. He shrugged his shoulders. I quizzed again after a half hour and asked husband to check the stove and he had it on broil. I was seething, livid...but I kept control of myself. I stewed for the rest of the day over it. One job to do, he has been taught how to turn on the oven a few times and he still screwed up a major thing. The meal was terrible (too many cooks) and I was a rabid, nasty, bitch by 8 p.m. after they all left a huge mess. One of the Others, my husband, did what he could and I tried to muster up the energy the next day to continue the cleaning. I was not extremely successful at getting very much done. I was licked, but I managed to get it a quarter of the way cleaned.
There is no fight left in me, but I expect I will be ripping a strip of the others when I have the energy. I need to get away from them as much as possible by myself when I am able to drive.
I tried desperately to get out of this huge meal, but my Mom was insistent and for the sake of keeping my medical situation a secret I wouldn’t give out the true story. However, from my sister’s response on the phone, I’m sure they still wouldn’t get it.