Sleeping On A Cold, Hard FLoor

Kelsey hasn't been doing well. On Friday, he developed an upper GI bleed and wouldn't eat or drink. He also couldn't walk without assistance. I didn't expect him to make it through the weekend. I had no choice but to go to work, so I gave him a shot of morphine to make him comfortable. He got too much and was pretty much unconscious. I put a thick down sleeping bag on the couch and picked Kelsey up and put him on top of it.

In a quiet rage over the unfairness of having to go to work and take care of sick people when I had my own sick, precious Kelsey who needed me, I left for work. We were short two nurses, so it was another night where I ran in circles without a break for nine hours. Several times, I was tempted to scream, I quit, and leave.

When it was time to leave, I took a xanax before driving home to brace myself for what I might find. Kelsey could have bled to death, overdosed on the morphine or drowned in the pond while I was away. I came home to find him standing next to the couch. With some coaxing, he drank some water and ate a piece of chicken.

I've stopped his pain medication. I suspect that the tramadol ate away his stomach lining. He's eating and drinking and is able to walk okay again. The bleeding appears to have stopped.

I want to spend as much time as possible with Kelsey, so I haven't been blogging much. I have also moved downstairs, because he has problems with the stairs. I've been sleeping on the floor for almost a week now, but it's not as miserable now. Lindsay loaned me a king size futon mattress, so there is room for everyone to sleep together.