Gloom Dispair and Agony

It's after five a.m., and I've been up for several hours--after not going to sleep until after midnight. I injured my sciatic nerve last Tuesday. At first, my upper back hurt between my shoulder blades, then my lower back and down my left leg. Okay, it hurts bad! I cannot sit, stand, lay down . . . And all this time I am suppose to be writing 3 papers and assembling a portfolio!!!!

Friday, on the way home from school--like after 8 cuz I stayed late to grade papers, Ken calls to tell me my dad had a heart attack, a mild one. The Care Flighted him from Corsicana to Baylor. He actually had the attack on Thursday, but he didn't go to the doctor till Friday. They had scheduled an Angioplastic for Monday. So I stopped by to see him on Saturday night on the way to a "pay-your-husband-back-for-all-the-parties-he-attended-on-my-behalf" Christmas party. He looked real good and was watching a football game. When we left, he said "love ya," which is not a word bandied about in my family; it seemed significant.

Yesterday, Sunday, I worked on my paper some more; I've got more than seven pages, but the organization is just crap and I cannot seem to get the flow going. So I just keep writing, thinking I'll cut and paste and work it out in the end. But, there is just so much information and I have no idea what to go with and what to hold for later. I'm feeling like I'm starting to get to know how people feel with a dissertation. I only get to write for a short while, before I have to get ready for another party. So I unplug my heating pad and carry books to the Christmas Party; there I am asked when I will graduate--how much longer--about done yet? I reply, I'm about done with my first semester!!! sigh

I had a funny feeling at the party and thought, I better check the messages when I get home, but there was nothing. My sister Tina called me at about 10:30 last night to tell me that dad had 2 more massive heart attacks and everyone was at the hospital!!!!! He is in ICU and they will do surgery on him today. My grandmother, whom I called ASAP, did not sound well. She is 85 years old, and had just moved to the house two doors up from him. (I pause and think here for several minutes . . .)

I have canceled my class for today as well as a meeting with my prof about my final project--which I've not been able to work on since I'm working on my other project!!! After midnight, five seconds after I turn out the lights and painfully arrange body in bed, my son walks in with a stomach ache! Oh yeah, and yesterday was his 16 birthday, and, like always, since it's the end of the semester, I did not plan a damn thing--too busy--(feeling like a really, really crappy mother). WHY THE HELL AND I DOING THIS????? I painfully get out of bed and find him some antacid. I end up on the couch because it is more comfortable, but there my dog is scratching and bathing. About 4 a.m. I call the hospital, but they say only the contact person can talk to the nurse. My dad could be dead right now, and I don't even know it. I talk my way pass, as I am pretty good with that, but the receptionists gets revenge. After five or more minutes of talking to several people and looking up his name, I discover she transferred me to PLANO!! Call back, no, can't find him. sigh. I adjust my heating stickers on my bad that I just bought and WalMart and go get in my bed. Ken gets up to move to the Living Room, Matt comes in and tells me he is still sick, and now I lay here in pain expressing my frustrations on my keyboard. My throat is sore; bad sign. I'm wondering how I will get it all done for my presentation on Tues, American Lit, and another one on Wed., Victorian Lit. Well shit, my alarm just went off to wake me up to take Matt to school early.

Just doing the schoolhouse tango. Signing off . . .