An update would be that my brother is basically a miracle.  At last check this evening, he was sitting up in a chair and eating!  Doctors are baffled but won't admit it.  I worked in the medical field long enough to learn the "tone".  When they gave us the news last week they did not expect my brother to pull through this.  But he is. :)  I want to thank everyone for their warm thoughts and prayers.  My  heart has been touched by wonderful friends and well-wishers.  Please continue to think of  him.  The road to recovery is long yet... but he's on  his way.

I hate desktop computers.  Especially desktop computers that have been turned over to bunches of kids for months and are now so full of crap that it's almost pointless to even TRY to use them.  However, that is exactly what I'm using tonight.  I don't want to, but if I want to post I have no choice. 

The couple of you who read my blog regularly will recall the tiny dog brought into my home last year when my ex-mother-in-law insisted she buy us one.  He only stayed for a couple months before we realized, yet again, that we are not dog people.  Not inside dogs, anyway.  But before he left us he managed to chew my laptop power adapter.  And I've hoped against hope every day since then that it would work that day.  Well one day last week, it stopped.  And the new one should have been here today, but it wasn't.

So I'm on the desktop.  I know I'm lucky to even have access to more than one computer in my home.  And I honestly don't feel sorry for myself.  It has just turned into a sad day, and I'm feeling it all over.  It was a day for disappointing late deliveries and young girls' dreams to be dashed. Pitiful looking flower gardens that are only growing more depressing by the day.  I guess it's just a night to feel sad.

I feel so disconnected from the world.  From everyone and everything.  That whole "no man is an island" thing... it's horrible when you feel like you're stranded on one right in the middle of civilization.  I don't understand where these feelings are coming from because when I think of my brother, I could not be happier.  I should be so please and content. 

It doesn't help that I overdid it again in the yard yesterday, so tonight not only am I sad, but I'm sick as well.  Leave it to me, right.  But the good news coming from the hospital left me a day to get things done around here.  And I really needed to get them done.  There's still so much more that I should even be working on instead of this post.  But this loneliness in my  heart and mind would only have me working in circles and accomplishing nothing.

I miss the music on my laptop most of all.  There's no way I'm looking through hundreds of cds for just the right song tonight.  But if the laptop worked, I'd find it... somehow I always manage to magically find it.

Did I mention I have ants?  I hate ants.  I absolutely hate ants.  It's the time of year for them around here, it's a hundred year old house, and somebody's gotta tell the kids to stop eating at the computer.  I've told them, but they're not listening to me tonight.  Maybe I don't sound very stern.

Maybe I just sound sad.

Where have I been?  I could write a book on the things going on around here, but it would be sad, anxious, and heartbreaking.  I've spent the past week at a hospital watching my brother fight and not fight for his life.  I have been forced to face the realization that both my grandmother and mother are no longer young women but glorious females in the fall and winter of their lives.  I have witnessed a father finally be rewarded for being a Daddy  even after he has been put through hell for years by the disrespect, anger, and selfishness that was brought about by drugs and alcohol. 

I am beyond a mental breakdown and emotional overload in ways that I have never known.  I can't cry when I'm at the hospital pretending to know what's going on and holding everything and everyone together.  My Dad takes great pride in bragging about how I can get things done and not fall apart in a crisis.  He doesn't see me when I get home.

My brother... the brother that is three years straight and sober... the brother who just found his son... the brother that is back to being the brother I grew up with and loved with all my heart had a heart attack a week ago tonight.  Last weekend it wasn't a serious heart attack.  A minor blockage that would easily be fixed with a stint procedure on Monday morning.

Monday morning came and twenty minutes after he'd been taken into surgery he was rolled out into the hallway.  The nurse informed us that although the doctor would be out to speak with us in a few minutes my brother wanted to tell us himself.  He looked up at his three sisters and his wife and quietly said, "They have to do open heart surgery immediately.  Where's my Daddy?"  (Dad had only just stepped outside because we'd been told the stint would take about an hour.  He was by my brother's side in seconds and didn't leave again until they took him back into surgery.)

He came through the surgery fine... a triple bypass.  And the first day he seemed to be recovering slowly.  But we had no idea what was in store for him.  On Wednesday, after watching him struggle and lose ground for two days, all the specialists conferred and decided that my brother's lungs were badly damaged and the strain of breathing on his own was, in fact, killing him.  He has been on life support since Wednesday afternoon. By Wednesday night, his lungs had begun fighting against the machine and they had to put him completely under.  He's not even there now... or at least it feels that way.

I have been by his side always making sure to be around when the doctors are there mainly because his wife wouldn't know the truth if it slapped her in the face.  She loves drama, and the more serious she can make the situation sound is the more sympathy she can get.  She has no problem lying right in front of us.  We can hear the same doctor give the same news, and when she gets on the phone to someone in her family, she lies like you would not believe!  Even knowing that we can hear her and know she's lying!  My love for my brother is the only thing that keeps me from slapping her.  The woman is stuck on stupid, and I hate her.  My Christian upbringing warns me that my hatred for her will cause me great pain someday.  I can accept that.

Screwboy has driven back and forth a couple times over this past week just to hold me and let me break down in the middle of the night.  If he hadn't given me that, I'm not sure I'd be sane tonight... or even not in an emergency room myself.  The pain and heartbreak feels unbearable at times.  It comes and goes.  One minute I'm so worried, the next I'm angry, the next... scared to death.  Pushing myself the way I have has given me a headache for three days now.  My back feels like someone is stomping it... on purpose. 

Watching me go through this has caused my Screwboy more heartache than I ever realized he could feel for me.  So today he called work and basically told them he wouldn't be back until after the weekend because we mean more to him than they do... and they took it surprisingly well.  Mostly because they know he rocks and he has saved their asses more than once lately.  He won't leave me until he knows I'm ok.  How awesome is that... 

Today the news has been better than expected.  All tests are showing improvement although he has a long way to go.  But every positive step is a miracle.  I can't imagine what he's going through.  I just want him to come back to us.

The first night Terry was home, he stayed awake all night and held me while I cried.  I'd sleep for fifteen minutes and then cry... and then sleep and then cry... and he stayed awake all night so that he'd be sure to be able to whisper love to me each time my eyes opened.  And then he worked eighteen hours.

But today... the good news has allowed us a reprieve from the hospital waiting rooms and CCUs and the fast food drive thrus.  We've spent the afternoon doing nothing.  I napped most of the day with my head on his stomach while he watched tv and showered me with concern and affection.  Lots of shoulder massaging and back rubbing and sweet little kisses.

The last check in at the hospital, all was well and big brother is holding his own.  He doesn't know I'm not there... just one night.  So for tonight, I'm going to rest.  We're sprawled out on the bed with pizza, magazines, and SciFi on the tv.  We're in our pjs and I feel hopeful for the first time in a week.  I'm going to go enjoy that feeling... and belly rubs.  He promised me belly rubs... I'm going to cash in now... :)

Ok, I think maybe deleting the post I just deleted is probably the second or third time I've ever done that.  (You're rubbing off on me, IML)  I just decided I don't want to talk about it... so I'm not going to!  Unfortunately it stays in the digest.  They should really work on that, I think.

ANYWAY... it's an absolute beautiful day here today, but I'm too tired to get out and do anything.  More rain for tomorrow and the next day but a beautiful weekend in the forecast.  I'm praying that I'll be able to get the yard in better shape this weekend!  Not the most fun plans, but hey... I'm losing sleep over the stupid thing.  That's how much it's bothering me.

I sort of toyed with the idea of having a real professional landscaping service come in and do the bare minimum.  You know, get it back in shape, and then I'd do all the keep up.  I even called one with a good reputation a few weeks ago to get them to come out and do a free estimate.  But they didn't call me back until yesterday!  I came home to a message on the machine.  Probably good that it took them so long because I'm over it now.  I'm sure I couldn't have afforded their price, anyway.  I'm just lost on the whole thing.  I don't know where to start.  It's a mixed blessing that I put it all off until now.  Had I worked my butt off and gotten everything planted and then had it hit by the winter that blew in here over Easter, I'd have been beyond upset.

I'm trying to get the five year old on a better schedule.  It seems to be working, but it's killing me.  If I can just make it a few more nights... ugh.

I just want the energy to tie my own shoes.  Although it was quite fun having Screwboy do it for me a few weeks ago.  :)

So I'm back to roughly three hours of sleep a night.  Thinking about it only pisses me off, so I'll try to focus on something else this morning.

Like the fact that I can tell Screwboy is delirious and exhausted.  I worry about him.  He does so much for the people he loves, and I'm afraid it's wearing him down.  But I can't tell him to stop because what he's doing is so important right now.

My hair is finally growing again and so far it's healthy!  It's awesome having an inside connection to great pharmacutical knowledge... even if my connection keeps trying to drug me senseless.  In fact, he has already convinced me that drug induced stupors are so much more enjoyable than liquor.  (Don't scold me, I'm joking... mostly.)

At this rate I'm never going to have any energy, so I'm never going to get anything done.  It just keeps slowly piling up around here. I can't think about that either... not this morning.

My mother is pulling one of her "you don't love me because if you did you'd worship me" tricks.  I don't even have the energy to humor her this time.  You can imagine that's making it rough.  I feel guilty, too.  My mother should be in the stage of her life where her children are able and willing to humor her and show more patience and understanding than ever before.  Isn't that what is expected of adult children when their parents become seniors?  She used it up... years ago.  She used me up by the time I was seventeen. 

Somehow I have to find more to give.  I have to find a way to give her what she needs.  Sometimes it feels like she doesn't deserve it, but I know in my heart that she does.  She's my mother, and I love her.  She may have loved us with condition and limited emotion, but she loved us.  That's more than so many children get in life.

It's supposed to finally feel a bit more like Spring here by this weekend.  I'm praying it will give me the incentive I need to try harder, do more.  If I could just get started.  That's half the battle, right?

Saturday morning.  It's raining, and that makes it dark and dreary in this big ole house.  I used to think I wanted a house where the colors were light and bright.  And I still think I like them better.  But I couldn't resist this house.  Even with the dark wood everywhere... and the somber walls.  On days like today you can hardly tell it's daytime outside especially if the huge wood blinds are down over the windows. 

I've never measured the windows.  Thank the gods I didn't have to because the former owners left all the window treatments.  That would have been a fortune.  I know the windows are over five feet tall.  I know this because they're taller than I am.  But I don't know the actual size of them.  You'd think with windows that big, more light would come through.  The windows are going to have be replaced as soon as possible, but I have to find someone who can do it but have them still keep the same appearance.  Just let me tell you, windows installed in 1923... they're just not all that.  I could show you my utility bills for the winter.  You could cry with me.

I just want to put down the laptop and curl back up to sleep.  There really isn't any reason why I can't.  My Belle spent the night with my brother.  I should just stay in bed all day.  But then I'd regret it later... missing the opportunity to get something done.  But won't I need my energy for later when she comes bursting through the door all excited about her adventure?

Yes, I'll need the energy.  I think I'll just snuggle back up with the kittycat, and drift off... one more time.

I've backspaced about five times so far.  Mostly because I can't think of anything to say that I haven't typed at least a hundred times.  If I don't get sleep soon I can't be held responsible for the bitch that will break free.  I'm more in control of my person when I'm drunk off my arse than I am when I haven't slept in twenty-four hours. 

I can't get comfortable.  If I turn off the tv I'll hear the house noises and when the sun has already yawned and stretched to bring on the day, the house noises are too loud for me to sleep through.  But the tv keeps getting my attention.  So if I turn down the tv enough so that I can't understand it, I can hear the cats chasing each other over the hardwood floors and crashing into things that I know I'll find broken later.  And I'll curse when I find it all.  So if I turn the tv back up enough to drown out the cat noises I need to put it on an XM station for music.  As long as I don't pick a station that's going to take me down memory lane I should ok.

I could just get up and get on with my day even though I didn't go to sleep last night.  Surely that would mean that I'd fall dead out really early tonight, right?  Or I could just say screw it all and sit here until I fall over from exhaustion.  That's usually what works best.

In the meantime I'll think about everything I won't get done today because I'll be sleeping until noon once I do finally curl up into the little nervously twitching ball of anxiety that used to be the human being known as me and pass completely out.

If I don't think about the normal everyday things that need to be done around here, then my mind will wander to politics or religion or things that really piss me off... like that Imus dude getting fired for nothing more than being an asshole.  Hello?!?  If bad attitudes can get you canned, I have a list miles long of former employers that need pink slips!  So he was crude... rude... obnoxious... I used to be under the ridiculous impression I live in a free country.  You don't like something a radio personality says, change the damn station. 

Do you have any idea how many sluts I called nappy headed hos in my younger years???  And I don't remember any of them being black.  I might have been drunk and feeling much bigger and stronger than I actually was at the time, but you get my point, right? 

Yeah, he's a dumbass.  He's completely offensive.  I don't listen to him.  I never have. But if he gets canned and sirius picks him up, I think I'll start.  Why?  Just to piss someone off probably.

But I haven't slept in twenty-four hours.  That's just the kind of mood I'm in...

P.S.  All hate mail regarding this post should be sent to:   getthatstickoutofyourass@opinionsshouldbefree.com

Ok, so maybe I have some sort of pyschological issue that needs to be addressed... explaining why I can't leave my templates alone or why my furniture never stays in the same place for very long.  I know there's a name for it.  I'm sure there's a title and most certainly some kind of therapy or drug.  But maybe I don't want to be fixed.  Maybe I like bumping into things in the middle of the night because I've forgotten where I moved them before bedtime.

Forget it.  I'm only posting because I don't like logging into Motime and seeing that I haven't posted or had a comment in over a week.  I don't like the number 0.  I really don't have anything interesting to say.  I can't see my floor right now because there are too many suitcases in it.  And I think I'll leave them there and go back to bed.  Why not?  They will still be there when I wake up.