January 21, 2006

Another night has gone by restlessly. I worked a long shift yesterday. It left me feeling like a hard stiff shell of myself made of grease and garlic stench. Towards the end of the day I was getting close to losing it on customers and co-workers. The table that disregarded the fact that I was hosting and directing traffic for their benefit.

"Hello! Dinner for four?"

"Yeah.." the nonchalantly answered as they sauntered their was across the restaurant, snaking between tables and cutting in front of speeding servers with trays full of food.

"You know, I'll be over there in just a minute to get that table clean and get you set up!" Said with the largest smile possible; thinking, "Fine. You want to do this your way? You can wait at a dirty table."

These sorts of things happened all night. That was at seven and I still had two hours to go.

After work I went to stay with Sara for a while. She is finally in her own room. It's so cave like with the darkness, cool air, and occasional blips that sound like they might be dripping water. Her nausea had gone away and she was feeling a little better. I shared my dinner with her and promised to bring her a salad from work today. About 11pm the nurse came by to give Sara her pain meds. I had been reading to her from The Time Travelers Wife and as the morphine kicked in it made less and less sense.

"Faahgmph. Ohhh, Ah canth chalk sssso eeecy nnow." Sara was blistered.
She indicated that she needed to go to the bathroom and I helped unplug all of her sensors and then watched her hang onto her IV stand in the dark and wobble, toddler like, to the bright out-line of the bathroom door. Once I had her back in bed and the "inflatable stockings," used to keep up circulation in her legs, were securely fashioned I laid down in a reclining chair and slept until it was time for her next dose at 2 am.

I sat here, awake, for two hours reading some, getting up and walking around, planning my day, accomplishing nothing. Utterly empty and exhausted, I finally reclined to read in bed. I turned my head to one said and realized that my sweater smelled like citrus and spicy men's cologne.
I wore this homely sweater the last time I was at Stephen's, and while watching a movie I fell asleep slumped over on him, as I am apt to do. The still and loyal friend he is, he let me stay like that until the movie was over. Last night the smell alone was enough to help me feel better. I curled up around Emma, and used my arm as a pillow, deeply inhaling until I woke up at seven; cable-knit design engraved on the left side of my face. Lights on, music on, clothes on.

Though I am wired, I feel a dangerous kind of tired. My head feels like a stomach does when it is so empty that it starts to make noise. My head is heavy and hungry for sleep. It is starving, because there is really none to be found.

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Maybe there is something between me and Mr. Ambitious? I am re-living the time I've spent with him when I am at home, and love talking with him. I may do a large part of the talking, that's just how I am, but I enjoy listening to him the most.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

So sorry to hear about your sis, Corley. I know when people say "If there's anything I can do to help..." they're usually just saying it to be nice. But really, please just let me know if there's any way I can extend a hand from Colorado. If you can get your hands on a laptop, maybe Sara could watch movies on it with the screen really dimmed. Love you.

~Em~