and who is there to listen to me? The house is not quiet as I can hear the roar of his snoring. I know he is in terrible pain tonight as I woke up to him flopping his feet on the bed. I'm fully aware that he is clueless as he is sound asleep. But how can I sleep with the bed literally jumping every few seconds? He will lift a foot and flop it back down on the bed. It must be some natural instinct to find a comfortable position?
So I get up and come downstairs thinking I will sleep on the sofa, but I can't sleep. I did look at his feet last night and they are worse than ever. Huge orange gnarles on them that have white tips. Carbunkles the size of an egg coming off his heels. Lumps and bumps everywhere. I really do not know how he walks.
He is going to die. And I think I have finally realized that. The problem is that I am not going to die. Well, at least not from diabetes. He even said to me this weekend, "If I am going to die, I am going to live the way I want". And in two days, he ate a bag of potato chips, a bag of chocolate chip cookies, and a chocolate ice cream sundae. Does he know from his feet that he is going to die? Is that what is going on? I feel like I'm sitting here just waiting for "it" to happen. That my own life cannot progress until his ends.
Yep, it's 2:00 am and I must be rambling...I'm so tired, so exhausted....and I can't sleep because I can't be in my own bed with him due to all the flopping about!
Maybe I will sleep tomorrow! :o)
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