I Hate Dialysis Message Board
Off-Topic => Off-Topic: Talk about anything you want. => Topic started by: PrimeTimer on May 08, 2021, 07:05:05 AM
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It's just a toilet. That's what I keep telling myself. It is JUST a toilet. And right now mine is not....working. Okay, so I'm human. Things happen. But why me? Why now?? As most of you know I have an illness that requires me to be tethered to an oxygen line 24/7 while my husband is ill in the hospital. I've been home alone in our apartment a long time. And I've been unable to physically do some things. Needless to say, the place is more of a wreck than I am and that's putting it lightly. But I'm human and the toilet is well, just a toilet. I have to put in a request to have maintenance staff come and fix it (okay, unclog it). Kind of hate that word and not sure why. Maybe because I know it conjures up bad images. Anyways, this means maintenance will have to come inside the apartment, walk through and see the monstrous mess (the apartment, not the toilet). Normally I am a neat freak but haven't seen that side of myself in probably close to a year now. If I can't make my body bend over then whatever landed on the floor STAYS on the floor. It's not every day, just most of the time. Sometimes I'm creative and find a way to pick things up and I also have one of those "grabby things". But most of the time nah, I just leave things where they land. Hey, I'm lucky to still be breathing!
So, I am not going to beat myself up over not cleaning the place but it has made me wonder. Why is it that some of us are so obsessed with being neat and tidy? I have always prided myself for having a clean home where everything is in it's place and no dust bunnies to be found. But why do I sweat over it? Never earned me a reward or prize. That ended back when I was a fifth grader. You get past that age and...no one cares. Unless Mom saw or smelled it, no one cared. So, should be no big deal if there are plastic food wrappers and kleenex laying around. How about that overflowing garbage can in the kitchen? That sort of thing used to make me want to scream but now? Who the heck cares? I don't. I can almost picture actor Steve Buscemi agreeing with me and saying the same darned thing in that whiney little sniveling voice of his. "Who cares?" And are you the sort who makes your bed every morning first thing otherwise, your day just doesn't go right? I'm not. Probably should make the bed but I'm too busy patting myself on the back for changing the sheets by myself. Heck, I don't even tuck them in or under anymore. Getting used to THAT was HUGE progress! I like to keep things simple now...lay the sheets down and get into bed. Yup! That's me now! But who cares? People all over the world sleep in different ways in different spaces and beds. My preferred "method" is nothing remarkable.
Suppose I had better put in that maintenance request now. Fortunately, they work fast here. Maybe my apartment (and toilet) will be just be a blur to them. Or maybe not but who cares? It's JUST a toilet, not some rigged up booby trap or anything like that and lucky for them, they only have to deal with that and not clean the whole place for me.
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I am not a "neat freak", but I've discovered that I do like keeping things in their proper place, and I don't like living in domestic chaos. I think it's about wanting control over my living environment because there is not much else I can control in my life these days. A calm home helps me to keep a calm mind. However, my husband has been working from home for a year now, and there is a good chance this may continue for a while longer. The result is that there are stacks of paper upstairs on the couch and on the dining table and downstairs all over the place. Moreover, he is one of those men who must think that faeries will come clean up after him. He's discovered the joys of next day shipping via Amazon Prime and indulges in retail therapy; the result of THIS is that we have loads of packages delivered more often than not. He will open his package of goodies and then just leave the packaging lying about. It genuinely doesn't occur to him to put it all in the recycling bin. After gentle reminders from me, he will at least fold down the cardboard, but it is apparently up to me to actually put it in the recycling bin. He likes to have everything he could possibly ever want or need right there at arm's length. It is driving me absolutely nuts, and I am not kidding about that. Seeing so much stuff around causes me great anxiety. I wish I didn't feel this way. My home is my refuge, and I resent it being violated by discarded snack packets. And I am not going to apologize for feeling this way.
You should not feel bad for feeling the way you do about domestic chores. They are hard and boring, and if you are in pain or are not well, they become enervating. Like you've mentioned, this is the perfect time for you to find ways to keep things simple. Every day we make constant calculations for what is worth doing and what is not, given how we feel on that particular day. The trick, as you've discovered, is to be at peace with the result of your calculation. If picking things up off the floor causes you great physical discomfort, then it is a logical conclusion that it is not worth picking up that bit of paper towel that drifted off the counter. Who's going to know, and who is gonna care? People have better things to do and more problems in their own lives than to take up headspace thinking about that paper towel on your floor.
Your toilet has clogged at this moment because it is now that you are experiencing the greatest anxiety, so a mere toilet serves as the proverbial straw. When you are living with such difficult circumstances, the idea of having maintenance guys invading your space is tough. I viscerally despise the very idea of having strange people in my home for any reason.
I hope you get your toilet fixed quickly. You take care of yourself.
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Pea Tea, I think your situation is a perfect example of why services that offer housecleaning for those ill or with disabilities exist. When a person has a finite amount of energy, it has to be allocated properly, and to the most important of tasks. Each day you have to ask yourself how your energy will be best spent and if that includes keeping yourself fed, bathed, and dressed, so be it.
You have a very serious disease. Anyone that has struggled for air would know that life like that is itself exhausting. No one could blame you if housekeeping fell behind while you focus on the important, big stuff. If you are comfortable and at ease because your energy is needed for other things (survival) no one dare cast a stone at you.
I kind of have to keep a clean house. My mother is a clean freak and would rake me over the coals if she came over. It would then transition to a diatribe that women of my generation of lazy, dirty, materialistic skanks too focused on duck lips to lift a finger to clean.
Add that with my traditional gender roles husband. It's just expected that I clean. HOWEVER he hired a cleaning lady for me when I was on dialysis when his work took him away from home. He likes to keep things tidy......however.... working from home has blown this all to pot!
There are papers and files everywhere though he has a home office. And he understands his system of chaos even if folders are on the kitchen table, on the living room table, and whatnot. When he takes calls, he likes to walk around, so these piles migrate.
It's driving me nuts. So while I have to clean, I am not a neat freak, but I do want to be comfortable. I feel nervous with a house out of place but I am neurotic anyway.
All of this said, I completely understand your hesitancy with the maintenance people. I do not like to have to call anyone in at all because I just feel judged. True, they will have seen abodes after abodes, so what does it matter? But it is just a feeling of judgement. Also, I do not like my personal space invaded by strangers.
I will admit that I learned a serious lesson though. Back in the Motherland, when my husband would also be away, I would go to bed in mismatched pajamas. As well, the decor and lighting in our bedroom (at the time) was like um, questionable. :rofl; Well, one night, I was unresponsive and my friend staying with me had to call the ambulance. So the EMTs had to go into that bedroom, with like no lighting to start any IV, and this frazzled woman that looked like a guerilla fighter with some mismatched outfit on. I was sooooooooo embarrassed at the state of my house and the state of myself. It felt worse when my friend said the EMTs were hot too. *facepalm* There went my dignity out of the window.
Anyway that lesson lasted for a bit but then I let myself slide. But it put me in a hyperaware state to always be prepared though in regard to mess and cleaning.
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You guys are too funny. Thanks for that, MM and UT. The last time I let things go was after my husband and I got engaged. These past few days have been a little like back then. I've been sick with no energy but since he's been in the hospital I have really let things go around here. He is all I can think about. Back then, I started spending more time with him at his house and less time at my place. I remember putting a towel over a pile of dirty dishes in the sink and running out the door. Pfft. As if no one would notice the heap if they came in. Obviously it was more important to me to go and spend time with him than it was to spend time cleaning my apartment. So I got busy cleaning his house. :rofl;
A clogged toilet is really no big deal. Really. And I knew that, clean apartment or not. But I did used to sweat that sort of thing...anyone seeing a a messy apartment. But while my husband lay fighting for his life in a hospital I could just care less about anything else. It was just a clogged toilet. Turns out that it wasn't really clogged. The poor maintenance guy came running over for nothing. He snaked it and flushed it a few times and...no problem. I was a bit embarrassed by that and no real "emergency".
So I learned something valuable today; A toilet is just a toilet. Whether it is functioning or not and situated inside a clean or messy home the most important thing to note was that it was not my husband. He is of far greater concern to me, the most precious gift I have in life. A toilet is just a toilet.
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I live in an "organized mess." To the untrained eye, my bedroom looks like a complete disaster area, but I know where everything is. That's all that really matters, as far as I'm concerned. It's my room. Who really cares how clean it is? The rest of the house is my Mom's domain, and I leave her to it.
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It's easier to keep a place clean than try to pick up after yourself. When you lose control over oyur space it seems to create a never endings spiral of mess. I am in pain much of the time here at home and it hurts to pick things up. I am lucky I have a husband who helps out. He sees that I need help in the house. I also hired a once every two week housekeeper to come clean. She is a Godsend. I know about the expense, but it helps. You can clean up one thing at a time when you can.