Oh, Pix. That must be so hard.

I remember when DH's dad was in the hospital for what turned out to be the last time, there were theoretically other family members who could have helped but it somehow became DH's sole responsibility to talk to the doctor's and get the updates and even just that much isolation was really really hard. I'm so sorry you have to go through this.

Sorry, Pix. It sounds nightmarish.

Trust yourself to make decisions because he trusts you, and I know you are doing the best you can as you ride this horrible roller coaster.

This.

because otherwise I miss doctors and treatments don't happen

I was the advocate for both my grandfather and my grandmother during their hospital stints in the late '90s and early 2000's, and I hated having to monitor and correct what I felt should be simple stuff done easily and routinely by the staff, such as make sure the meds were on schedule, and make sure the empty-stomach meds and the with-food meds were done right, and the fluid restrictions were adhered to, and the BP was measured on the correct arm, and, and, and.....

The cardiologist did rounds at 6:15 a.m. sharp. If I was a minute late getting to the room, I missed him. Grrrr.

I can't ask her to sit with him again.

Pix, I hope that T. understands that she didn't do anything wrong.

Pix, I hope that T. understands that she didn't do anything wrong.

Oh she absolutely doesn't. She had to be the caregiver alone in the hospital for her mother and then two separate aunts, though, so it's pretty triggering for her. She's amazing in a hospital. It's just not fair to her to ask her to be there more than necessary.

Also, thanks, everyone.

Oh, Pix. This sucks so much.

I'm so sorry, Pix.

I'm sorry Pix. Hugs to you and your dad and Drew.

I'm sorry, Pix.

Gilda (my 18 yr old cat) is feeling bad so we need to see the vet tomorrow. She hasn't kept a meal down since last night and tonight she's just staying curled up on the bed. She's acting like I would with a stomach flu, but... 18 yr old cat. Here's hoping it's something identifiable and treatable. The receptionist was about to tell me they were booked up for the month until she saw Gilda's age in the records.

The barista at the coffee shop where my new writers' group meets just brought out two of their pet snakes to show to our group (since we're long-time regulars--the group itself isn't new, just new to me). I'm not generally a snake person, but that was still an unlooked-for bit of awesomeness and novelty for a random winter Tuesday. The larger one is named William Snakespeare.

Oh Pix. I’m so so sorry. What a hard place to be in.