a grueling five days.

i hate hospitals.  especially the i.c.u.  the sound of machines and the smell of human excrement, the stale air, the thoughts of those around me... lying in the beds or fidgeting nervously in the waiting room.  i feel as though i float among them, not tied down to the ground.  i stand by his grandmother's bedside, wondering if she is really about to die, or if she'll pull through.  her breathing is so labored, and she mumbles words i can't make out, her tongue is swollen, her lips are bleeding.  there are tubes everywhere.  my husband is crying, my mother-in-law is staring and saying occasionally, "i don't know."  i just stand by her bedside and stroke her hair.  it's all i can do.

three days like this, and now they've moved her to the hospice wing.  as though she were terminally ill.  and yet none of us know if she's about to die or not.  no one can say.  her breathing is still labored, she's still mumbling, but now she's trying to get out of bed, and trying to pull her i.v. out.  the nurses are frustrated with her, but she just wants to go home and have a scotch and a cigarette.  i know this because i know her thoughts.

really, i think she's decided not to die.  even though she told me she wants to.  i think she senses that her daughter and grandson are not prepared for this, and has decided to stay a while longer.  shocking, i know. she's 97 years old now.

i'm so drained.

meanwhile, someone at the office has been bringing germs into work with him, and between that and all the other germs i've been exposed to at the hospital, i'm getting sick again.  my left tonsil feels as though i've been stabbed.  i left work after 45 minutes this morning, having started feeling worse and worse the longer i was awake.  i started shaking.  i had to leave.  i struggled to keep upright and not faint behind the wheel the entire drive home.  i crawled back into bed and slept for 7 hours.  i've been awake for about 3 hours now and am almost ready to go lay back down again.  i can't stand it.  i'm exhausted.