Illness, allergies, parking lot assault, and dietary failures.

This week has been a bit rough. I’m at a loss trying to figure out where to begin.

Since I am a care giver, every now and again I tend to catch a bug from one of my clients. Beginning around last Thursday a brilliant and miserable cold began developing. By Friday, lungs weren’t an option. I even had to reschedule my training session. That is something i did not want to do, but I was sure my trainer would appreciate me not nose fauceting on her iron. This in combination with standard summer allergies and the inability to remedy symptoms pharmaceutically (fatal reactions with daily medications), makes for a generally useless me.

It was Friday and I managed to convince my SO to come up and visit me. I was super relieved because if I didn’t see him this weekend, I may not see him for a few weeks because our schedules will be getting hectic.

The last time we were together we got into an argument (which never happens, I’m a total pushover, also I avoid confrontation unless it is professional) and he took the ferrets and left yelling “I’m moving on”. Which in man brain meant “I’m moving on from the conversation.” and in girl brain meant “I’m moving on from the relationship.”

I seriously spent a solid 15 or so hours believing I was single and was tremendously heart broken. Solid crying, couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, my favourite music sucked because it made me think of him, stress vomiting, you name it. That in itself is pretty eye opening. I try my best to emotionally distance myself to a point where I won’t have those feelings. Whoops. Guess I dropped the ball on that one. The next morning I sent him an apology text and proceeded to verify details to make sure we were on the same page. We weren’t. His man brain was confused as ever, but after I explained my perspective he understood. It was official: we were cool…. good.

Fast forward.

I’m sniffles and sleeping in bed. I wake up to my SO home with my fur kids. So happy! We have plans with my family to do summery stuff because it was going to be in the 90’s over the weekend. My SO is handicapped. He cannot walk without crutches, but he can swim. So everyone was looking forward to this.

I lay on the couch generally useless and catch up with my SO. He is hungry and so am I. I have no interest in making things or going anywhere. He suggested Applebee’s to go and I was super excited to get shrimp and salmon without having to leave my couch and kleenex. He left at 530pm and I passed out.

I wake up in the 9’s and he still hasn’t come home. I text him a weird dream I had. No response. I call him. No answer. I only called once because I don’t want to come off as the crazy girlfriend. Honestly, there are a lot of things I do and don’t do to avoid giving off that vibe. Especially now, the first time I have seen him since I thought we broke up. Anyway, Applebees is one of his favorites. They also have wifi and he is a gamer. The game he plays has certain missions at certain times, so I just chalked it up to he was at the bar at Applebees talking to whomever (he loves to talk and he never shuts up, especially when alcohol is added) and likely playing his game on his phone and that was why he didn’t respond….Makes sense.

I woke up again a little after 2am. He’s still not home. I call. No answer. Ok. Something is not right. He hasn’t been home. His meds are due. This means he’s missed at least two doses. If he was out drinking, he best not be driving. I peel out of bed and dress myself. Stumbling and bumping into walls I try desperately to overcome the vertigo that is shaking my brain like a magic 8 ball.

I get down the complex hall and down the stairs to find the building door is open. Looking further into the distance I see my SO’s truck in the parking lot. Then I realize the door is being propped open with a crutch. As my sleepy brain is trying to process this information I hear a noise coming from outside.

Faintly in the darkness I hear incoherent mumblings. I step out of the building unsure of the situation and poising myself for the unknown. My eyes follow the noise. Steadily they begin to focus in the lack of light. It was my SO leaning against the building. He was nowhere near his crutches. He was dazed and incoherent. I call out his name but he doesn’t respond. I come in closer, but with caution. I get his attention. He looks at me and almost falls over. Half his face is blood.

I instantly shift into caregiver mode. I do not let him know how bad he looks. I do not show any sign that deep down I think I may be dying a bit seeing this. No. Right now, I have shit to do.

Assess situation. Assure person is disarmed. Apply pressure to known bleeding.

My SO is incoherent. He is somewhat combative because he doesn’t know what’s going on. His body is awake and his mind dips in and out. I can’t talk to him like a girlfriend. I have to talk to him like a drill sergeant.


Gimping and tipping we get into the building and into the light. He stops and takes a lean against the wall mentally preparing himself for stairs. I pull out my phone and begin taking pictures of the damages.

“What are you taking pictures for?”



I show him a picture of his face.

“Wait. That’s me? WTF?”

After what felt like a circus event to get him up the stairs we were in our apartment.

I took pictures of his wounds and we did what we could for the head bleeding. While trying to take care of his condition I was trying to piece together how bad his condition was. Was he acting the way he was because of being drunk or from head trauma? or both?

My SO did not know what happened. He knew he didn’t make it to applebees. He knew he went to the bar next door for the meat raffle instead. He knew he didn’t win anything. He didn’t know where I found him. He didn’t know things I had told him. He would ask me a question that I had previously answered and I would say “You know the answer. What did I tell you?” and he wouldn’t know. Red flag.

“Okay. Here’s the plan. We are going to the ER. Do I need to grab anything of yours?”


“Ok. Let’s go.”

We get to the car and he gets buckled in.

“Where are we going?”

“What did I tell you?”

“We should go to the police.”

“We need to get you fixed up. You can talk to an officer there. If I take you to the police station they will just call an ambulance and no one can afford that.”

“Yeah. Do you know where you’re going?”

“I got this. You just chill.”

We get to the Emergency room and he ends up needing 4 stitches around his eyebrow area. He has a concussion. He has scrapes and bruises through out his body.

A police report was filed, but there isn’t much that can be done.

All we know is there are six hours that my SO does not remember. He has defensive scratches on the backs of his hands. He has a head wound. He has a concussion. He was found too far away from his crutches to have gone on his own. He was missing $100. There are 2 solid hours documented on his fitbit where he is flat out unconscious.

This was assault. What scares me most is that we will never know who or why. We will never know what would possess someone to beat a handicapped veteran in his own doorway and leave him in the dark in a bush leaned against a wall.

The weekend has been dedicated to making sure he is comfortable. His eye is swollen shut. His body aches far worse than usual. His concussion has screwed up his sleep and he’s had a pretty solid headache. He has been getting sensations of overheating and has been sweating. It’s been a lot of up-downs.

Needless to say, I haven’t had it in me to exercise and I’ve had some less than healthy dietary choices this weekend.

Oy. Here’s to hoping for a better week.


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