It’s Sunday

I wish I was on a bus. On a bus heading to Seattle right now.

My 85 year old mother-in-law had a stroke and is hospitalized in Seattle. There’s some debate when it actually occurred so they couldn’t use the wonder drug the neurologist described. The risk to benefit ratio wasn’t good.

She was taken for an MRI last night around 11:30 and we headed home, leaving my brother-in-law to wait for them to bring her back. He went home after. Because we hadn’t eaten since breakfast we stopped at Denny’s on the way home. By the time I was climbing into bed it was almost 2 am.

JD paused to check email, fell asleep in front of the computer and didn’t get horizontal for another hour and a half. He then woke before me  after only a few hours of sleep. Since it will more than likely be a long day at the hospital I wanted him to have more rest. He’s lying down again for a couple hours while I’m struggling with impatience. I hate the idea of S being there alone. She was in and out of confusion all yesterday. You could see her frustration when she couldn’t find the words she wanted. She called JD Scotty at one point. My regular readers know JD stands for John Doe but his name in real life is not Scotty.

This brings back memories of when my grandmother suffered stroke after stroke. She recovered quickly and fully from the first ones, but eventually they got the better of her. Near the end she had to be fed by tube, she couldn’t speak or write. Her frustration was so palpable!  It physically hurt to witness that strong, beautiful woman become a shell of herself. 

I don’t want to think of watching Mom disappear that way, losing herself bit by bit. Hell, watching JD witness his mother’s suffering is going to about kill me.

What the fuck was I whining about on Friday? It doesn’t seem all that important now.