My So-Called Life:
The "tire failure" light started flashing as I left Cedars yesterday. Because $Deity doesn't totally hate me, I was near a Just Tires. The good news? It was a nail that could be patched. The bad news? They were packed and my car wouldn't be ready for three hours. I grabbed my laptop and my purse and trekked the mile and a half home, cursing the fact that I had dressed for the arctic conditions of the hospital, not the 80 degree weather we've been having.
Will is improving daily, although the docs won't let him eat (or leave) until he passes gas. Who knew farting would be mandatory? Alas, he has not achieved rhis lofty goal as of this writing.
"It's like love," I told him last night, "it'll come when you least expect it."
"Not funny," he told me, hitting the button for more morphine.
"Maybe I need to pull your finger?"
This is where we discovered that laughter and belly staples don't mix.
Alas, I am at work this morning. 4:45am felt like 3:45am as I crawled out of bed. I'm currently feeling like the Worst Wife Ever as I should be at the hospital, but I don't get vacation or sick days as a part-time employee and the parking fees at the hospital are financially ass-raping.I haven't been able to do any freelance work or writing since this all happened, which I am attempting not to stress over. The Post-Apocalyptic Workout has been put temporarily on hold, although I feel more zombielike than ever.
I'm trying to concentrate on the basics: Will is getting better. Hopefully he'll be cleared to come tomorrow.Everything else we'll figure out later.
(Posted from my BlackBerry.)
