If I Had A Brain, I'd Be Dangerous!
I don't know where my brain is sometimes. More often than not, I walk around in a fog of forgetfulness. I really started noticing a lack of memory when I was 34. That is the year I lost my dad, and I thought it must be grief. Grief is not something I would wish upon my worst enemy. However, I digress. I was diagnosed with Lupus two years later, and brain fog is one of the symptoms. Although I take medicine for joint pain, inflammation, and immune suppression, nothing seems to clear my head completely. I miss my clear head more often than not. Last night was one of those nights when I suffered the consequences of forgetfulness.
We worked up in the studio until 7:00 or so. The girls are only being milked once a day now, and there are only three in milk, so night time chores are quick and easy. Eric handles the barn work and checks on his darling piggies. I stayed in the studio to print and pack the orders that came in. We had unmolded soap yesterday, so the molds were in the sink, ready to be cleaned. I turned on the water to fill a basin of the three basins stainless steel sink and thought, I will let this fill while I go over to print orders. I will be back in a few minutes. As soon as I walked to the garage's adjoining side, I forgot about the sink running. I printed orders, answered email, and checked how the post was doing on social media.
When I finally returned to the studio side, I looked in amazement at the water covering the floor. I looked in wonder at the waterfall flowing over the side of the sink. I then looked in astonishment as I noticed the water was halfway across the studio floor and also inside my storage closet. I then swore. Once again, I strung together a lineage of curse words that would have made a sailor blush. I sloshed across the floor, turned off the water, and began to bail water from the overflowing two basins to the one remaining empty basin. I had stopped swearing at the situation and began a silent curse of my lack of brain clarity. Of course, The Bean came into the studio just as I was beginning to bail the water. Her first words were, "Wow, mommy! What happened? You forgot the sink was running, didn't you?" My response was, "If I had a brain, I'd be dangerous!" She immediately took a towel and began to sop up the water on the floor. Unfortunately, a bath towel wasn't going to touch this mess. She then helped me carry all the supplies out of the damaging reach of the water. She's such a good kid. She did not comment further on the situation; she just helped me clean up. As we were scurrying about, The Bibbed Wonder came in from the barn. I looked at him, saw him begin to form words of reaction, and calmly said, "Not a word. I don't want to hear it."
He simply put his arm around me and said, "What's going on with you? Are you okay? I'm not being a smart ass, I swear." I didn't respond. At this point, they both know what is going on with me. They both know how bad I feel about myself when things like this happen, and they both are considerate enough to help me clean up the aftermath. I'm always sorry they have to help me. I got a broom and begin pushing the water to the floor drains. The Bean got a squeegee, without being told, and began to squeeze the remaining water. Once the majority of the water was pushed down the drain, Eric got the Shop-Vac and took care of the rest of it. My forgetfulness added an additional hour and a half of work to our already long day.
When I began to apologize for my carelessness, Eric shut me down mid-sentence. He told me the floor needed a good scrubbing anyhow, and that was a benefit. He also could not refrain from adding, "Anyhow, what would we do if Facebook didn't get checked." He can put a funny spin on any situation. The Bean didn't say a word; she just gave me a hard hug and asked if she could open up her new Barbie's...that is a wonderful story I will share tomorrow. I am always astonished at how caring and patient my partner and daughter are with me. Neither one acted annoyed, frustrated, or put upon. I always brace myself for anger or at least admonishment, but it never comes. They help me, encourage me, hug me, and make me laugh.
I must admit, I am concerned about what lies down the road for me as I get older, and this autoimmune stuff continues to affect me. My concern lies more for what my family will have to deal with due to my deficiencies. However, it is best not to think too much and appreciate the fact that I am surrounded by amazing people who love me even if I wreak havoc and create more work for them. Eric jokingly tells me regularly, "You never had it so good!" There is indeed a lot of truth to that.
As always, dear reader, stay safe, stay smart, appreciate those who are there for you...even if you create a flood and wash your hands.