Caleb called me while I was at the Dem Convention last week -- maybe it was Tuesday? Yes. Tuesday. Anyway, he called me Tuesday after getting back from his appointment with his physician to inform me that he had been diagnosed with pneumonia. And I wasn't scheduled to come home until Friday in the a.m.
That would've been tough enough to take if I hadn't already been feeling beyond useless, given that my laptop crapped out completely the day I arrived in Denver and refused to stay on long enough to let me read email, let alone post anything. So I was unable to participate at all in writing my experiences about the events unfolding around me, ostensibly the reason I'd attended. So, hearing the news about Caleb's being very ill and with me stuck in Denver, unable to help, knowing he would have to continue to solo-parent and work while I sat on my ass in the blogger hang-out and did some blogging 1.0 (yes, I read JD Salinger books and wrote things using a pen and paper), it was kind of TOTAL BULLSHIT.
Then on Monday, when we had planned to attend a Labor Day function, we found ourselves at urgent care again, only this time it was for Jack and *his* diagnosis of pneumonia.
Also, some random thing that's sweeping the universe, called cough-variant asthma; both he and Caleb have it. Enter the ventilator-thingies that little kids loathe and scream over. Super-double-awesome.
I went to work with Caleb today to make some extra do-re-mi. I worked on the production line. The people I worked with are super, duper nice. They didn't make me feel like a weirdo, and while I've known one of them for a long time (Caleb's been working there since before we met, which means that some of his co-workers attended our wedding, etc.), the rest were virtual strangers, so having them all be so nice was a pleasant experience. Usually I feel totally stupid in that kind of situation. But I didn't today. Just, you know, content to be doing something, working hard, helping out, making a little money. I worked as hard as I could, too, and they were complimentary, and even a little surprised, I think. Which was - satisfying.
I'm doing it again tomorrow, and Jack won't be happy about daycare on Friday (it's his first Friday bout of daycare, and since he and his classmates just switched rooms to preschool this week, things are already kinda horrible in that realm, but it can't be helped. We need the money, and we all just have to hang tight and try to manage. It's hard, but I'm so certain that there are a trillion people in this world dealing with harder things that I simply refuse to let it get to me).
Hope you all have a nice weekend. I may or may not be around. I had a suicidal bout yesterday and am worn out by it on top of the physical exhaustion from today, and don't have a thing to say that isn't dull as dirt.
(Although I suppose the insertion of "suicidal bout" could suggest un-dullness. But I didn't put it there for the sake of being incendiary. I'm just being honest. It sucked. I really had decided I was done. Through. Caleb talked me down, and then I rested for several hours, and felt better enough when I woke up to eat and shower and pretend I hadn't been entertaining such thoughts until -- well, just now, I suppose. Don't please say anything. I just needed to get it out of myself. I'm okay today.
Really.)
