Thank you, to those here and in the afterlife

Thanks to all who called and emailed after yesterday's entry. I have to apologize that I 'lost it', but things have been brewing for a while. In addition to the printed words, some conversations that needed to happen have taken place. Am I okay? Not really sure. Will I be? Probably-resilience is an attribute both parents bestowed on me. These dark days never seem to last too long, but when you all hear talk like that from me, it's a shock.

That said, listening to me vent were Joyce and Donna. Thank you for letting me air my problems without judging.

Now, for the afterlife part. My phone rang at 2:30 this morning. Phone calls at that hour are never good news. Jane was en route to the hospital for a possible heart attack. Ed's mom called me with this news, and to ask to be taken to the hospital. This means getting the kids up and schlepping the 30 miles, but I put myself in her shoes. I tell her I'll get there as soon as I can.

Something told me that I should not hurry. Really. I posted to my home on the 'net the news and asked for good thoughts for Jane, before shutting off the computer. I went and told one son (who wasn't sleeping, or was awakened by the phone-not sure which) to get dressed and bring his pillow. I took my time getting dressed, brushing teeth and gathering clothes for sleeping younger son. All told, 15 minutes pass from when I *could* have gone out the door and when we actually do.

Once on I-4, I notice that there are lots of headlights that don't appear to be moving all that fast. Then, the plume of smoke that appears to be coming from just to the right of the roadway about a mile ahead. Finally, I notice that the tailights in front of me are not moving, either.

We come upon an accident that happened fairly recently. A larger vehicle is fully engulfed, and two other vehicles are smashed up and turned 90 degrees from the roadway. I'm about 100 yards and 5 vehicles back from the wreckage and call 911 and was informed that they were already en route. The police and rescue apparatus arrive about 3 or 4 minutes later.

The roadway is blocked, and we sit for about 45 minutes, until such time that a few cars are able to move. We turn around in the median and head back the two miles to the exit that I'd come from. Now, though, traffic is diverted off the Interstate and onto Highway 92, which runs parallel to the interstate.

The accident was the result of a man driving a rental car the wrong way down I4 at a high rate of speed. Several people had called 911, but they couldn't get out there before he hit a dump truck head on. The opinion is that this was a suicide by motor vehicle and that the driver was seeking out something big to hit. So, while if I'd happened upon him driving the wrong way, he wouldn't have hit me. I am left with the very strong feeling that I would have been caught up in it somehow. I'm convinced I had an angel on my shoulder that kept me from my usual M.O. of rushing out the door.

When I delivered Mom to her room in the ER, the first thing out of Jane's mouth was that it wasn't her fault. She's been diligent about following the low sodium and limited fluid directive issued after the congestive heart failure.

Once she'd been told she was staying as a guest of the hospital (ha), we headed back to Mom's. I called work and the school and caught a few hour's sleep. After Mom woke me a few times to see if I wanted to sleep some more (really), I returned to the hospital with some things for Jane.

Now, onto the inevitable questions about Jane. She did not have a heart attack, but they're not sure what happened. Initial tests didn't show elevated enzyme levels (indicative of an MI), but numbers were wonky enough that they decided to keep Jane for observation. Later tests showed she's throwing enzymes. Somehow, I suspect she'll be in for more than 24 hours. She got a PICC line, as the one arm they can use for IVs is not a 'good stick'.

I think I can relate to Jane's current frustration level. Some things are preventable through diligent attention to one's own body. Others, despite your best efforts, land you in the one place you fight to stay away from. This is one of those times.

If I knew she'd enjoy them, I'd bring her over the pile of books from the 'chick lit' authors that a former coworker turned me on to. They're light reads, funny and entertaining. Maybe I should send Ed with a few anyway. Anyone who has spent even one night in the hospital will tell you how darn exhausting it can be, so she'll need to relax once home.

Yes, it really seems like life is too overwhelming lately and we can't catch a break. Are we done paying the damn Karma bill yet?

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