I won't get into the grim details because it's too exhausting and disturbing, but suffice to say that today was a real soul-crusher. By 8 pm (when visiting hours end at the hospital) I felt like a shell. Some little soul-eating bugs crawled in through my nose today around noon when I first walked into my grandpa's room. The bugs procreated and chomped away and by 8 pm I was hollow.
Today was much worse than yesterday and I'm afraid the white Zinfandel in my granparents' liquor cabinet didn't quite do the trick. After today, I take back everything I said that was positive from Monday and Tuesday. We are back to square one, and I'm worried I'll be stuck in Hanford until Christmas.
Amazing and gorgeous mother Trisha (sorry I can't link to you here, Trisha) complimented me for yesterday's humor in the face of a dark situation and I'm disappointed that today I can't maintain that humor. I, quite honestly, would like to cry myself to sleep in my own comfortable bed tonight. I have perspective (John). Things like this make you appreciate your fully functioning limbs and lungs and brain and love your family more.
But it's hard, there's just no question about it.
Maybe tomorrow will be better.