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Belated news is better than none at all.
Aug. 26th, 2005 08:36 pmI stayed up until far too early this morning in hopes that my parents would call with some news about my grandfather, but the effort was in vain as the phone never rang. I think I finally went to bed around 3:30 this morning (what ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
captain18 and I lovingly refer to as "o'dark-thirty") but sleep wasn't in the cards for me -- I slept even more poorly than usual. I was up probably eight or nine times before my alarm went off. Even if I hadn't been suffering from lousy sleep and popping in and out of bed like some twisted Jack-in-the-box, the phone call from the helpdesk at 5:30 this morning would have hosed up my attempt at sleeping anyway. Luckily I had my good friend C8H10N4O2 to help me through the day.
When I went to bed I had no idea how to feel about the lack of information about the outcome of the surgery -- was there no news because the procedure was still going on? Was it indicative of an uneventful success? I certainly hoped so. My day at work kept me busy enough that I didn't have much time to reflect on the situation and subsequent silence from Minnesota though I did occasionally find myself staring at the desk phone and wishing it would ring with a call from a Minnesotan area code. Fortunately there was a voicemail waiting from my mother when I got home. She had called Z'ha'dum at 10:35 this morning to leave a brief message for me. While I would have liked more detail, any word was better than the total dearth of updates I'd been laboring under. The surgery was "excruciating" (I have no idea in what sense she was using the word as there was a total lack of context I might derive clues from) but apparently he made it through okay. In my previous entry it seems that my estimate of a week or more of recovery time was ridiculously optimistic -- according to the voicemail he'll be fitted with his pacemaker "in the next day or two."
This is one of the times when I most regret having nobody to share this household with. I'm glad that I have had Ra to hold onto these last few nights... it is with remarkable aplomb that he has tolerated my constant need to be clinging to him (let's be realistic: most cats do not go for that level of attention on an ongoing basis). Lightly speaking, the loneliness and uncertainty has been a bitch. There has been little more that I've wanted to do these last few nights than seek the arms of somebody I love. But I'm afraid that's not in the cards, so I'll just keep using Ra. Well, I'll use Ra as a substitute for as long as he'll tolerate me doing so, anyway.
i am waiting
captain18 and I lovingly refer to as "o'dark-thirty") but sleep wasn't in the cards for me -- I slept even more poorly than usual. I was up probably eight or nine times before my alarm went off. Even if I hadn't been suffering from lousy sleep and popping in and out of bed like some twisted Jack-in-the-box, the phone call from the helpdesk at 5:30 this morning would have hosed up my attempt at sleeping anyway. Luckily I had my good friend C8H10N4O2 to help me through the day.When I went to bed I had no idea how to feel about the lack of information about the outcome of the surgery -- was there no news because the procedure was still going on? Was it indicative of an uneventful success? I certainly hoped so. My day at work kept me busy enough that I didn't have much time to reflect on the situation and subsequent silence from Minnesota though I did occasionally find myself staring at the desk phone and wishing it would ring with a call from a Minnesotan area code. Fortunately there was a voicemail waiting from my mother when I got home. She had called Z'ha'dum at 10:35 this morning to leave a brief message for me. While I would have liked more detail, any word was better than the total dearth of updates I'd been laboring under. The surgery was "excruciating" (I have no idea in what sense she was using the word as there was a total lack of context I might derive clues from) but apparently he made it through okay. In my previous entry it seems that my estimate of a week or more of recovery time was ridiculously optimistic -- according to the voicemail he'll be fitted with his pacemaker "in the next day or two."
This is one of the times when I most regret having nobody to share this household with. I'm glad that I have had Ra to hold onto these last few nights... it is with remarkable aplomb that he has tolerated my constant need to be clinging to him (let's be realistic: most cats do not go for that level of attention on an ongoing basis). Lightly speaking, the loneliness and uncertainty has been a bitch. There has been little more that I've wanted to do these last few nights than seek the arms of somebody I love. But I'm afraid that's not in the cards, so I'll just keep using Ra. Well, I'll use Ra as a substitute for as long as he'll tolerate me doing so, anyway.
i am waiting
