Dead Day Eve
Hanging out in the office, APO flyering, pizza, Are You Afraid of the Dark? episodes, cheese dip, cider, acoustic guitars, table football with a folded coffee stirrer, story telling.
I can't remember the last time I told the extended version of the "I've been struck by lightening" story. It was kind of cool.
I talked a lot about my daddy as well. His hand being almost fully severed (they put it back, it has wicked scar but the doctor did a fantastic job putting it back on), his nose being cut off (they put it back, he doesn't have hard cartilage in and it pushes down flat), the wild New Year's Parties (with lots of exploding things, but hey they put it back on and the guy only lost like 2 inches in his arm). Just FYI, if you can get it to the hospital in under 20 minutes they can reattach. Longer if it's on ice.
I talked a little about dad's heart. I'm not quite sure if it's something I talk too little or too much about, but it really bothers me. The top chambers aren't really beating correctly, so he's working on half a heart. They have him on a really heavy blood thinner so he can't take his normal pain killers (and as some of the things mentioned above might indicate, he's torn himself up enough in his life to necessitate pain killers on a regular basis). So he's not only a lot weaker and easier to wear out than usually, but he's in a higher level of pain as well.
Dad always talks about how he doesn't want to waste away, he wants to go quickly. His mother, who died before I was born, slowly died of cancer over an 11 year period (where every few months he was called home again for his last goodbyes). His dad died of cancers and diabetes and a variety of things, but it was a slow lingering death. I know it hurt dad to see the man who he had looked up to and seen as so strong wither into the small caved in and tube-infested man we saw on Christmas 2003, a few days before he died. The thought of watching my own big strong daddy shrink scares me. It scares me to type it. But...I'd rather he be around than not...I mean, I don't want him to suffer inordinately just to be around...but...yeah, that's enough of that train of thought.
I wish I didn't feel I had to think about this stuff.
Oh, yeah...I slept off the feelings of nausea and, while still feeling puny, went on with my day. I think it was just a physical exhaustion thing that made me feel bad earlier. Ugh on this time of year. I've felt kind of out of it for like a week.
This may lead you to wonder why I am not sleeping when I know full well I have to get up in the morning. Also, you may wonder why I've been posting so damn much...spamming will probably cease soonish. La.
I can't remember the last time I told the extended version of the "I've been struck by lightening" story. It was kind of cool.
I talked a lot about my daddy as well. His hand being almost fully severed (they put it back, it has wicked scar but the doctor did a fantastic job putting it back on), his nose being cut off (they put it back, he doesn't have hard cartilage in and it pushes down flat), the wild New Year's Parties (with lots of exploding things, but hey they put it back on and the guy only lost like 2 inches in his arm). Just FYI, if you can get it to the hospital in under 20 minutes they can reattach. Longer if it's on ice.
I talked a little about dad's heart. I'm not quite sure if it's something I talk too little or too much about, but it really bothers me. The top chambers aren't really beating correctly, so he's working on half a heart. They have him on a really heavy blood thinner so he can't take his normal pain killers (and as some of the things mentioned above might indicate, he's torn himself up enough in his life to necessitate pain killers on a regular basis). So he's not only a lot weaker and easier to wear out than usually, but he's in a higher level of pain as well.
Dad always talks about how he doesn't want to waste away, he wants to go quickly. His mother, who died before I was born, slowly died of cancer over an 11 year period (where every few months he was called home again for his last goodbyes). His dad died of cancers and diabetes and a variety of things, but it was a slow lingering death. I know it hurt dad to see the man who he had looked up to and seen as so strong wither into the small caved in and tube-infested man we saw on Christmas 2003, a few days before he died. The thought of watching my own big strong daddy shrink scares me. It scares me to type it. But...I'd rather he be around than not...I mean, I don't want him to suffer inordinately just to be around...but...yeah, that's enough of that train of thought.
I wish I didn't feel I had to think about this stuff.
Oh, yeah...I slept off the feelings of nausea and, while still feeling puny, went on with my day. I think it was just a physical exhaustion thing that made me feel bad earlier. Ugh on this time of year. I've felt kind of out of it for like a week.
This may lead you to wonder why I am not sleeping when I know full well I have to get up in the morning. Also, you may wonder why I've been posting so damn much...spamming will probably cease soonish. La.