Restless

I'm pretty tired and cranky tonight. I would have thought I'd feel better after having a few days away from the hospital, but I feel more frustrated than before, not more refreshed. I don't get that.

I spent one night at Parker's apartment (not fun.... see below). I spent the next night at the room and had a really nice time reading and researching agents. The next morning (yesterday) I slept in until 8:am and felt totally spoiled. Watched a disappointing women's final at the French Open, then came to the hospital and visited with John's sister, Nona, and two of her kids (Parker's cousins), Wanda and Tommy.

It was really, really good to see them. Nona shrunk since I saw her last. I pointed that out to her and she laughed. It meant so much to Parker that the three of them came to see him. Then after they left I went out to see my friends who live above a creek out west of Austin. Spent a lovely few hours talking and watching the Belmont (another disappointing sports event this weekend) and visiting with my favorite horse on the planet, Chip.

On the way back to the hospital I drove past the exits for Zilker Park and Barton Springs. I think seeing the signs for those two popular outdoor hot spots might have reminded me a little too much that there is actually life outside the hospital. When I left Maryland in early March it was cold and had recently snowed. Today it was 97 degrees outside and humid. Somewhere in between life happened without me. That has me feeling restless, trapped.

John left this morning. It was emotional for both he and Parker. It feels like we are in a holding pattern. Nothing is getting better (or worse, thank God!) because one thing leads to another and then to another and another, causing hold ups in progress. It's aggravating because a week ago we were making huge strides every day.

Parker still hurts almost constantly (except for brief periods of time right after he gets meds); he still throws up bile at least once a day (today was a whopping 1600 cc's!); he is still too weak to move very much and knows that moving more is key, but then the pain is debilitating. He pushes past it, but there is only so much one body can endure when it comes to pain.

So we are kind of stuck. Waiting. Each day is beginning to blend into the one before. I'm losing track of time. I don't remember what my dogs fur feels like when they lay on the couch with me. I can't remember what book I was reading when I left in such a hurry, or the color of the wallpaper in the bathroom of my new cottage.

But I have my son. Thank God.