A holding pattern

This all seems very unreal right now. Like I'm gonna wake up and go "crap, that was an awful dream" but I think I am actually awake.

I just washed my hair and I have to sit up now until it's at least a little dry, before going to bed. (My hair dryer broke a while back).

I am in kind of a holding pattern right now. No more news, though I'm guessing if I get news it will be bad news. (Not unexpected, but still bad).

I do have a train ticket. Tomorrow's Texas Eagle had one bedroom still available. It was super expensive but I don't care; I cannot deal with noisy people around me right now. I didn't make a return ticket; I will do that when I get up there and figure out more what's going on.

I have to go to the bank tomorrow morning; thank goodness their drive through is open Saturdays

My mom did say "no plans had been made" and right now it sounds like she's leaning towards doing a memorial service later on. Generally, I find memorial services emotionally easier because there's been time to accept what happened. (I am not looking forward though to being asked to stand up and say something. I'm sure I will be. I'll have to start thinking of what.)

No, I don't expect there will be a miraculous recovery or even improvement based on the symptoms that have been described to me. I would like for there to be but I also know that's probably not possible, and also probably not best for him, if he was in discomfort before.

He was unresponsive/ unable to speak but the hospice nurse they have in (I guess they have those 24 hours now?) said he could understand what people are saying so I tearfully told him multiple times that I loved him, and that he was the best dad anyone could have. He did kind of groan into the phone and the nurse and my mother both said he clearly understood what I was saying, so at least I have the comfort that I was able to tell him one last time I loved him.

this is so hard.

Gah. Wednesday night when I talked to him he discussed the last colonoscopy he had so I wouldn't be so scared about mine. (Well, that's not happening now. I don't care, even if everything's all over and I'm back in time, I am just not up to dealing with that, too.  If it's not too disrespectful to say it - this is a hell of a way of getting out of doing one, though)

He has been in declining health for a couple years, spent a couple times in the hospital. My mom says things really started going bad after the pneumonia he had last year and I think she's right.

I dunno. Right now I feel kind of empty and numb but I suppose that's to be expected.

The bell-choir director, who is a friend of mine, came over and sat with me for a while, and I babbled at her and she folded the clothes I got out and put them in my suitcase for me so as far as I can think I have all the clothing I need. I will still need to gather up all my makeup and deodorant and tooth stuff and medications in the morning. I have a list so I won't forget anything. I hope.

I also need to figure out some books and some simple projects to take with me. Maybe just plain socks; I have a lot of self-striping yarn, and I could even take the skeind up kind so I wouldn't have to wind any off. Maybe I throw the cakes of Cupcake and a ripple blanket pattern in my suitcase and try to restart that, I don't know.

I've called the minister, he sent out a note to everyone on the prayer chain. Called another friend of mine (actually originally to get the minister's  cell phone number, which I did not have). Called the person who was to be my driver for the colonoscopy and another person from AAUW who needed to know why I'd be gone for a while.

I still have to clear the spoilable food out of the fridge but I think that's a tomorrow problem. Dana (my friend from church) is coming to put the trash cart down on Sunday and take it back up on Monday and she will arrange for lawnmowing if needed.

I gave Dana all the ripe tomatoes (and went out and picked the ones coming ripe in the garden). Partly as thanks, but also because I hate to see them go to waste and there's no way they'd keep.

My piano teacher had offered to drive me to Mineola (which is a big thing to offer) but I think I will be OK to drive my own car and with no set return time, that means I don't have to worry about coordinating a ride back.

it's hard being a single person some times. If I had a partner we could drive up and share the driving. Or he would be willing to drive me to the station and get me if it were just me going.


Definitely, definitely taking a couple stuffies with me for comfort in this. Maybe even one of my fleece unicorn blankets even though it will probably be warm on the train.

I called my department chair (thank God I was able to find her number; when you do so much over e-mail it's hard) and she knows where I will be going. I told her I'd try to get in and finish my last syllabus and have copies sitting out in case I don't get back until right before classes start.

There are so many loose ends to deal with. Both in terms of "having the stuff I need when I get up there" and "dealing with stuff down here."

I have no idea if I'll be posting anything while I'm gone. I might, I don't know, if there's a time that everyone else is away from the house....after it happens.

I also think I'm going to open an invitation to my mom that if at some point she just needs to get away from their house, she's welcome to come down here. I'd have to do a lot of cleaning and moving stuff around (especially to clear the guest room out) but that she could come down and stay with me for a while; I have guest room. She could take the train just like I do and I could pick her up at the station.


****

Printed off a fingerless mitt pattern and the good old Weasley Homstead socks, both of which are simple but not SO simple they'll be boring. Have to find yarn for them. I might still throw the Cupcake in my suitcase along with a ripple afghan pattern, I don't know.

Have to pick out books, too. I wonder if the Lloyd Alexander set I bought a while back would work. (Mystery novels not so good when there is real death lurking about, I find). Maybe some kind of Anthony Trollope thing, I don't know. What is good to read when you're bereaved? Not a big fan of romance. Not sure I have any historical novels that would work...

(Yes, I devolve into mundanities in times like this. It's dealing with the little stuff that keeps me from falling apart. As I've said several times before, if I were around during the Blitz in London, I'd probably be either driving an ambulance or rolling bandages.