Stinkin Thinkin

My mind feels like it's wandering tonight. I still haven't found my click, but I'm feeling a bit better the last few days. I've had a hell of a cold that arrived on Thursday and has decided to set up housekeeping. HB was away for the weekend, working on a retreat team, so I had a rare weekend of having the house entirely to myself. I dropped him off on Thursday and had a great evening kind of lolling around the house ~ doing what I wanted when I wanted. Woke up at 4 a.m. absolutely convinced my life was ending. Spent the rest of the 'night' in the washroom hugging my new best friend.

But I've decided to live. I had to get better quickly, because HB came home broken. I swear he was in good physical shape when I sent him in on the retreat. Those men broke him! He had used an incorrect technique while working out last week, and did some damage to his rotator cuff. Didn't think it was that bad, so headed in to the weekend. He returned home Sunday in extreme pain. At one point last night he was on his knees, laying up against our bed, and I was rubbing his back. And all I could think of was having seen this same scene on A Baby Story a bazillion times ~ only it's usually a very pregnant woman laying up against the bed and an anxious soon to be father rubbing her back.

Anyhow, he went to see his doctor today, but couldn't see him, so settled for a duty doctor who doesn't know him. And this doctor prescribed muscle relaxants and anti-inflammatory medications.

I don't usually tell his story here, because this is really supposed to be MY blog, but he is part of my story I guess. HB is a person in recovery, and has several years of clean time. Truthfully, I think of hundreds of other adjectives before the adjective 'addict' comes to my mind when thinking of my awesome husband. I have to admit, though, that the presence of these medications in our home is making me nervous. His addiction started because of athletic related injuries and doctors prescribing pain killers. I know that muscle relaxants are not in the same park, but it made me nervous none the less. This is a house that rarely even has ibuprofen in it.

Don't get me wrong. I'm very clear that this is his recovery, and I have absolute faith in him and his recovery. He took only what was prescribed, and also chose to supplement with massage therapy this afternoon. He stated tonight at dinner that he hopes not to have to take anything beyond tomorrow ~ that he just needs to unknot the muscle enough to let the massage therapy work.

I trust that he is not going jeopardize what he has built on a one day at a time basis. It's been a long long while since I let a little of the old doubt and fear related to addiction creep into my day. I'm grateful that we both have enough time under our belts to know that naming those fears and laying them out on the table is the only way to go ... that's what I had to do at supper tonight. And that hurts because I always worry that he thinks I don't trust him ... even though that's so far from the truth. It's just my humanness getting in my way.