Probably I'm grasping at straws. Last night he got confused about what day it was. It scared the crap out of me.
So yeah, I've arranged for the boys to walk home with the neighbor kids, and for a local friend to bring Hotter home if he is discharged as planned, but I dunno. They didn't do the MRA as planned because they were unsure of whether the contrast was safe for his kidney and Transplant had gone home...and then there's the fact that he's not doing so hot. I am supposed to work a thirteen-hour day today, but...oof.
Also my ex yelled at me last night when he dropped the boys off after dinner visitation and...just UGH.
It's gotta get better...right?
Sent from The Precious





Oh, lady.
Posted by: K | September 6, 2012 at 09:33 AM
It's going to get better. It has to get better. That's my theme this week, as I manage taking husband to reconstructive surgeon & oncologist apts, and son to neurologist & neurosurgeon. Anything except better then this week is unacceptable in my world, and yours too... Good luck, hang in there!
Posted by: Celeste | September 6, 2012 at 03:31 PM
Egads woman. Egads.
Happy thoughts from me to you. I hope Hotter gets better. I hope you find out exactly what's going on. And I hope that lousy ex of yours trips over his own stupid feet and into a freshly laid pile of crap.
Posted by: The Zany Housewife | September 6, 2012 at 04:26 PM