It's (almost) the weekend

I was interviewing a new patient yesterday and he mentioned that he relapsed on July 20. I knew that was a Friday. I knew that because that was the day that we buried my father. It was so interesting to me to think that this man's life was falling apart as in a different part of the world on that day. Interesting to think of all the things we run around doing, celebrating or grieving or whatever, while others in the world are experiencing entirely different things. I remember driving past people at Starbucks and restaurants on the way to and from the hospital. They were going about their normally daily life while mine was falling apart in pain and crisis. They didn't know and there are hundreds of days that I don't know about other people's pain. Of course, this makes sense. We couldn't handle the pain of the entire world. Interesting still. The world keeps on turning regardless of the pain and celebration and the numbness. We spent a lot of time in one certain waiting room at the hospital. I remember leaving on Wednesday morning wondering about the next family that would sit in that room, make life changing decisions in that room, cry in that room, eat an anniversary meal in that room.

I liked my attitude during the week of dad's death and ceremonies. Grief seems to excuse people's behavior and I took advantage of that. I was direct, straightforward, impatient at times, and full of boundaries. No one was going to get near my mother who she didn't want near her. No one was going to waste my time including one pathetic social worker at Vanderbilt who I excused from the room as she wanted to make small talk with me about school experiences while my father was dying instead of providing the resources I asked for. I suppose I need to work a fourth step inventory on my resentment towards this woman, but some people I encountered that week were truly inept at their jobs and at reading social cues. Inexcusable when grief is that acute and time is that precious. I had to delegate, save energy, cry like a wounded animal on Jared's shoulder and alone in the train room, set boundaries, and keep moving. It was an interesting week and I was proud of my family.

It's Thursday night and I am wanting to be excited about Friday, but I work on Saturday. So, tomorrow is just another day and I'm pooped out. I talked to my nephews, Mike and Ryan, this morning on the way to work. They started their new school today. They were excited and nervous. I'd like to go to school with them tomorrow. A little recess, a few spelling words, some math problems, and then the 3 o'clock bell. Oh, for simpler times. My brother called and asked if I wanted to buy the family boat from him as he's planning on getting a new one! Ha, it still cracks me up that I have these adult conversations. I'm going to pass on the boat for today. I don't think I could get enough water in the back yard to get a slalom ski going.