I am tired but I am good.
So, Easter Sunday my mother had a miscarriage. A couple days later I went to a funeral of a friend of the family. And then this past Sunday I had to rush out of work crying and and get myself up to Akron to visit my grandfather, now in the hospital for the third time this past month, this time for blood clots in his lungs.
Yeah, the emotional fuel tank? Definetely riding on "E" right now.
The good thing about bad news though - when the good news does come, it's just that much sweeter, that much more noticable. Like the doctors tumbling into the roiling mass of family in my grandfather's hospital room 5 minutes before I left to let us all know that his prognosis is good and they had a method of treatment in mind. After 24 hours of my grandmother's micromanagement and my uncle bickering with his mother about where I slept at the house (oddly enough, I played a very little role in that discussion) and the everlasting waiting game that is hospitals, I got to the car moments before I broke down swearing and crying. But the day was done the prognosis was good I was going home and had two hours and a Dashboard Confessional cd to self-soothe.
Weird bad things keep popping up, and it seems the more things that come up the less I know how to deal with them. My mom named my baby brother Samuel - when she told me it was like the punch in the gut that finally got me to let go. When people ask me how I'm doing and I'm honest I get the same level of sympathy even though it keeps getting easier evey morning I wake up. Every time I tell someone it's like rubbing on Aloe Vera - there's this first cold rush, and then the slight numbing sensation, and describing a pain I feel guilty talking about because I seem to feel it less every time I discuss these past few days. And then there's this Virginia Tech thing. To my shame, my ears heard it but my head blocked it out. I just can't absorb that right now - I'm still maxed out, still numb.
My dad tells me that when I was born they had to give my mother serious painkillers for the end of the process that didn't wear off until hours after my birth. Sitting next to her bed after things had calmed down and she was half-asleep, he tried shaking her leg to get her attention, first a little jiggle, then full-out jostling. The only way he finally got her attention was when she noticed the sheets moving through half-closed eyes. I think I'm kinda like that right now - emotionally, I'm pretty doped up, and it would take something very big and very personal to get my attention. I feel bad, I want to be more sympathetic and empathetic, but I don't think I can right now. Give it a little while though - it'll wear off...
So, Easter Sunday my mother had a miscarriage. A couple days later I went to a funeral of a friend of the family. And then this past Sunday I had to rush out of work crying and and get myself up to Akron to visit my grandfather, now in the hospital for the third time this past month, this time for blood clots in his lungs.
Yeah, the emotional fuel tank? Definetely riding on "E" right now.
The good thing about bad news though - when the good news does come, it's just that much sweeter, that much more noticable. Like the doctors tumbling into the roiling mass of family in my grandfather's hospital room 5 minutes before I left to let us all know that his prognosis is good and they had a method of treatment in mind. After 24 hours of my grandmother's micromanagement and my uncle bickering with his mother about where I slept at the house (oddly enough, I played a very little role in that discussion) and the everlasting waiting game that is hospitals, I got to the car moments before I broke down swearing and crying. But the day was done the prognosis was good I was going home and had two hours and a Dashboard Confessional cd to self-soothe.
Weird bad things keep popping up, and it seems the more things that come up the less I know how to deal with them. My mom named my baby brother Samuel - when she told me it was like the punch in the gut that finally got me to let go. When people ask me how I'm doing and I'm honest I get the same level of sympathy even though it keeps getting easier evey morning I wake up. Every time I tell someone it's like rubbing on Aloe Vera - there's this first cold rush, and then the slight numbing sensation, and describing a pain I feel guilty talking about because I seem to feel it less every time I discuss these past few days. And then there's this Virginia Tech thing. To my shame, my ears heard it but my head blocked it out. I just can't absorb that right now - I'm still maxed out, still numb.
My dad tells me that when I was born they had to give my mother serious painkillers for the end of the process that didn't wear off until hours after my birth. Sitting next to her bed after things had calmed down and she was half-asleep, he tried shaking her leg to get her attention, first a little jiggle, then full-out jostling. The only way he finally got her attention was when she noticed the sheets moving through half-closed eyes. I think I'm kinda like that right now - emotionally, I'm pretty doped up, and it would take something very big and very personal to get my attention. I feel bad, I want to be more sympathetic and empathetic, but I don't think I can right now. Give it a little while though - it'll wear off...
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