Radio silence, eh?
Yesterday was just a very long day.
I went with my friend to her appointment and she was in the back so long that I finished a New Yorker and read most of a two-year old Marie Claire and when she finally came out, she was shaking like a leaf and pale and in shock. The exam had hurt her horribly and the practitioner at that clinic was throwing possible diagnoses around like rice at a wedding and said she needed to get to the ER. Now.
Of course my friend had not eaten all day and the NP advised her not to because surgery might be needed.
Okay, this is not what you want to hear.
I got her a Sprite and we headed to the ER where they checked her in and her sister came and then May and Michael came and I headed over to Lily's to take over boy-care from Hank and then he went to the ER and people took shifts there with her and AFTER SIX HOURS IN THE WAITING AREA she finally got called back to a room. At first they were sure she was going to need surgery but after an ultrasound, decided that no, she did not, it was just a very bad infection. They gave her antibiotics and sent her home at three in the morning.
Which I am most grateful for but I am absolutely sickened by the fact that she sat there in pain, scared to death, knowing nothing, without eating for twelve hours before they diagnosed her.
This is the hospital that has a fucking billboard which electronically lists wait-times before seeing a doctor if you go there and I seriously doubt it has ever once said, "Six hours."
I hear they were slammed. People bleeding and screaming and I get that but Jesus, it was a Monday afternoon and this is what our health care system looks like.
Well. I am so grateful that she doesn't need surgery and that she did finally get the medication she needed.
By the time I got home, I was a zombie and all I did was sit and wait and then play with my boys for a little while and go to the grocery store on my way home. I slept for about ten hours and am still waking up this morning. I plan on being a domestic goddess today, washing sheets and making chicken and dumplings for Jessie and Vergil and black beans and rice for me and Mr. Moon.
I am not fit for the world at large today and so I will be the one who keeps track of the coming of spring, the comings and goings of the orange cat, the the whisper and blowings of the breeze through my house and in the trees, the small stir of the wind chime tinkling, the way three warm brown eggs feel in the palm of one hand.
In short, the miracles which do exist in the midst of it all.