Ugh. Wine hangovers are the worst. Fermented grapes dry the insides out terribly. When I woke up this morning with cotton mouth and a slamming headache, I knew I was in for it.
But here I am, sitting alone in my shop and thinking about my partner who is going through chemo treatments for multiple myeloma, which settled in his skull, making it not only a more rare form of cancer, but even more rare due to where it originated. So he suffers unwillingly with rashes and nausea and joint aches and the anxiety of not knowing how he is going to react to the next round of medicine.
Last night I was busy putting a newly acquired antique hammer on ebay when he told my son to get me. I asked what was wrong and he said he felt like he was having a heart attack, his heart pounding in his chest and his head throbbing. He muttered "I don't feel right. You might have to take me to the hospital."
I crawled in bed next to him, but not before I told my son he would have to drive if we needed to go since I had finished most of a bottle. In fact I was numb, as Pink Floyd would say "comfortably numb."
I passed out next to my man and woke up early to find him getting up. I asked him if he was okay. He said that he was and he got up to make his coffee and get ready for work. Yes, he still works full time because he needs to be able to pay for the insurance and other medical costs and only misses work for the treatments he receives every Friday. The shots. I was sure he had a severe reaction to the shot and I told him so. He disagreed, saying it was the Chinese food we had eaten for dinner. He never wants to blame anything on those damned treatments. Perhaps it's his way of feeling a sense of control over his illness.
So here I sit, spaced out and worried. I guess it's time to get back to work, hangover be damned.
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