It’s late. It’s 1:34 am – the twilight of a Sunday morning here in Kentucky – and I really have no business being up. Problem is, I’m heading down to Orlando on a flight at 7:00 am, and I’m trying to finish up all the crap that I didn’t do today. Apparently I was too busy playing Tiger Woods 2006 on the XBOX 360, but we don’t have to go telling people that now, do we? Oh, and did I mention the bit of schizophrenia I develop in the wee hours of the morn?
Anyway, I thought you all might get a kick out of this letter I left my housesitter, so without further ado, here’s my thoughts on how to get results while you’re out of town…
A letter to my house sitter
Thanks in advance for watching the house and taking care of our babies for us :)
This week, Mr. B will need some special attention, mostly because he had another seizure on Thursday. He’s now on three different medications which I’ll need you to give him while we’re gone. While they’re all critical, one is SUPREMELY IMPORTANT.
He takes Phenylbarbitol for seizures. There are two blue bottles of the pills in the cabinet to the right of the microwave. He gets ½ a pill in the morning and another ½ in the evening. Theoretically, the doses are supposed to occur at 12 hour intervals, but I understand how that plays out in reality. Just do the best you can.
He also gets ½ of the cough suppressant and ½ of the antibiotic in the morning and in the evening. So, all told, he gets three total pills per day, ½ of each administered in the morning, and then the other ½ administered in the evening.
What I do is cut the pills in half and then stick them inside a gob of peanut butter. B goes ape shit over the peanut butter, so he doesn’t even know he’s taking meds. Just be certain that he gets ALL the peanut butter and therefore all of the meds.
PLEASE MAKE SURE HE GETS HIS PHENYLBARBITOL. WITHOUT IT, HE COULD SUFFER AN EXTREMELY SEVERE AND HARMFUL SEIZURE.
Even if the house burns down, make sure he gets his phenylbarbitol. I don’t care if you save anything else. Not even the TV.
But god help me, you better save Deuce, too.
I will be calling you to check up constantly – not because I think you’ll be screwing up, but mostly because I’m a neurotic freak. On top of that, I’m worried about Mr. B, and I want you to pay attention to his cough (if it persists).