Chapter One: Wait...what?
as any other weekend, though I cannot recollect now exactly what transpired Saturday or Sunday. Quite simply I can speak about them with the authority of the passing of nameless ages in which they exist, as the center of our small little universe, the sun, does indeed rise and fall approximately every 24-hours. Other than that, I draw a complete blank. I remember being very tired, and thankful that I was on a weeks vacation from work, yet standing on the very precipice of its end, I'm somewhat despondent, as I don't feel well rested at all.
Oh, that's right, I worked 10-hours on Sunday. I suppose that set the stage for my week, minus my eventual success at the conclusion of it.
Chapter Two: No Rest for the Wicked
all day long. Arrived home from my folks after dark with only my son, who we fed & watered like a price rosebush until the witching hour. Its hard to describe an incredulous look on a 9-year-old's face, but that is exactly what I got when I explained to him that he would not be allowed any food, or water the next morning until after his surgery. This marks day two of no rest, as we had to be at the hospital at 0900.
As you can clearly see from the first picture he was not at all apprehensive about his ordeal. My wife and I had briefed him well. He was actually excited about the chance to not get strep throat every other month. There was a short reception waiting time, a longer pre-op waiting period (during which I piloted the Pacifica through traffic like Korbin Dallas evading the police to bring my wife some Starbucks) and the surprisingly short operation itself. I'd brought my backpack and two novels, one of which was almost finished, and yet surprisingly still remains so. Post-op was a little over an hour, and we were back home late afternoon/early evening where everyone felt like napping except my son...who stayed up until midnight again.
Chapter Three: What do you mean, "Wednesday?"
where things start to get hazy. I think I almost had a fight with my wife because she insisted today was Wednesday, and she had to go to work the next day. We somehow ended up out in town, as the boy was feeling better, but restless after two days of inactivity. Presumably, this is where I contracted food poisoning. Again, maybe my days are off, its all very fuzzy. I went to bed at midnight after taking some Pepto, which didn't help at all. Not even accidentally. 10-hours later (during which was another very weird, very vivid dream about T:SCC), after rigorously and thoroughly ensuring my stomach was completely void of all contents, I stumbled into my son's room to check on him and he asked, "Why is the toilet flushing a lot?"
I made sure he had everything he needed, and went to lay down, unsure I would be able to rest after my uneasy 10-hour slumber. 10-hour later, I awoke again. And when I was done heaving absolutely nothing this time, decided to excessively void my bowels.
Then I slept another 10-hours.
Chapter Four: The Long Haul
bedrest created untold aches and pains never before experienced. I felt like Quellek trying to master the bed of spikes. No position alleviated my pain. And you know that really sore feeling you get from vomiting as it over-extends muscles which are otherwise impossible to use? Yeah, that too. Bedstiffness under my bedstiffness. I was miserable beyond description. I was in too much pain to lay down, but I was too worn out not to. I didn't know what I was going to do to pass the time. My day was going to be excruciatingly long on many different levels.
Then the phone rang. It was my mother calling to let me know that my daughter wanted to talk to my wife. The second call was from my wife letting me know we were going to pick up my daughter tonight instead of tomorrow from my mother's. I thought about the traffic Friday evening...I thought about waiting all day for my wife to get home before we left...I thought that sitting in that captains chair driving three-hours round trip would be a very real possibility as to an acceptable compromise to my pain management while simultaneously giving my day some much needed direction. I was going to miss the family-day we'd originally had planned for Friday, but this maneuver might mean some real rest this weekend before work Monday. When we got back, I slept another 10-hours.
Chapter Five: The Rime of the Ancient Mariner
,day and night, You'd think that I'd be glad; Sleep sleep, 40-hours, Yet no rest was to be had.
I have two days to close the gap. Prepare myself for work after having been away from it for a week, without it having felt like it. But for now, to catch up with you, dear reader. For our time here together is but a single drop in the bucket of time. And if the elevator tries to bring you down, GO CRAZY!