There is a lot going on in my life right now.
We found out that we need more for closing than the original estimate. Since I don’t want to tap into my savings too much, that means I’ll be at work every day this week but Thanksgiving.
My Daddy was in a car accident on Saturday night. He was disoriented trying to find his way home, and got side swiped by a tracker trailer. The police officer called my mother to come get him. She took him to the hospital the next morning because he had numbness in his hands, he was still disoriented and his blood sugar was well above normal. The Dr sent him home in the same state because all of his lab tests were “normal”. Being disoriented with a blood sugar of 350 is NOT normal.
I managed to clean most of the house, but was up until about 1 am in preparation for my mother in law to come visit. Then, I coughed for a few hours, unable to sleep.
Pookah woke me up at 3 am to tell me he had peed in the bed. I spent 30 minutes telling him it was OK, and washing bed sheets, and changing clothes.
CDub noticed then that it was cold and fiddled around with the furnace for the next two hours.
My alarm went off just as I was about to drift off.
The furnace was broken. I could barely stop shivering as I got dressed for work.
I managed to get to Starbucks by the grace of God. My eyes felt like they had sand in them, and I know I was drifting.
I got to work, and got asked a lot of stupid questions by folks who have advanced degrees.
I came home, got a text from my mother that my Dad had a follow up dr’s appointment at 130.
I waited for hours and got no updates.
My brain is now on overload. I have an overactive imagination.
My mother is not answering her phone.
I cooked dinner for Cdub, my mother in law and Pookah. They got tired of waiting and ate sandwiches.
No one is answering my parent’s house phone.
My brother is telling me to be patient.
While he is packing to go down there.
I feel like I’m about to hyperventilate.
All day long, I have had this feeling in the pit of my stomach. I’ve talked of everything else today but what I’m really worried about.
I’m worried about my Daddy.
I need my mother to call me
I need her to answer the phone.
Daddy had a stroke. Worse than the last one.
I listen to my mother talk about all of the technical terms and explain them all to her in plain English In my head, I’m hearing the reasons behind the tests that the Dr ordered, what he thinks and what he is looking for. And it’s not good. I know this. My training has taught me too well. But I didn’t tell her.
I’m trying to hold it together over here. I don’t need Pookah to see me cry.
If I can just hold on and get him to bed, I can curl up in a ball and try to hold myself together. I feel like I’m falling apart in little itty bitty pieces.
It’s funny, I’ve always said that when my mother died, I would be a hot mess. But I’m finding that the thought of my Daddy being this sick. As sick as the Dr thinks he is, is devastating me. Just.the.thought.
Pray please. Please.
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