Medicinal purposes

You’d think the “bad dream” aspect to my personal drama would have experienced a massive wake-up call by now. But no. It’s been almost three months and I still can’t quite believe it’s not a nightmare.

I’ve been partially deaf the past few days and Husband would normally be around to help. Instead I’ve prevaricated and put up with it, before finally admitting defeat and disembowelling the medicine cupboard in search of ear drops.

The medicine cabinet made me sad. Much like everything about my home has the ability to make me sad these days.

It was filled with medications and memories. All the childhood illnesses and injuries that Husband and I had tackled together. Nappy rash creams. Antiseptic sprays for scrapes. Endless variations of paracetemol and nurofen. Cough medicine. Winnie the Poo band-aids. Post-op painkillers the grown-ups have popped.

I checked use-by dates, chucking boxes in the recycling, outdated pills in the bin.

As I sorted through the detritus, I remembered the good times and the bad, in sickness and in health.

Oddly enough I read an article yesterday in The Huffington Post that noted:

The old adage “’till death do us part” comes to mind in the later years of marriage, when spouses may be faced with declining health. But according to the findings of a new study, when it’s the wife — and not the husband — who falls ill, the marriage is more likely to end in divorce …

Researchers from the University of Michigan and Indiana University-Purdue University Indianapolis tracked 2,717 marriages featured in the ongoing Health and Retirement Study between 1992 and 2010 …

Fifteen percent of marriages where the wife fell ill ended in divorce …

You don’t say …

But at least another corner of the soon-to-be-sold former marital home is tidy.

Song of the day: Tori Amos “Cornflake Girl”