Thursday, April 15, 2010

Headspace ...

Thursday. It's Thursday. This week has been a blur.

I spent most of the day Monday at the hospital, where my father had surgery. Not a major surgery as surgeries go, but any time general anesthesia is involved, any time intubation is required, it's major enough.

His recovery wasn't proceeding as expected on Tuesday, so insurance cleared him to stay another night, but he wanted to go home, so at 10 p.m., he and my mother left the hospital.

And then, at 1 a.m., he woke her so she could take him to the E.R.

Sigh. Men, do we women a favor, OK? Be pragmatic.

I'm sure it's no fun to spend the night in a hospital. I'm sure it's the opposite of restful. But listen to your bodies. If they're refusing to cooperate with your wishes, it's probably best to honor theirs.

Yesterday, I canceled an appointment, just so I could be nearby in case I could be of any help, and today, he's going to the doctor, even though he wasn't scheduled until next week.

So it's Thursday. And it was just Monday. Time, it just evaporates lately.

Despite canceling my daytime appointment yesterday, though, I did follow through with my evening plans, which comprised a book discussion of The Last Lecture at Homewood-Flossmoor High School, a building in which I had not stepped foot in more than 20 years, and dinner with two of my former Tribune editors, one of whom now works at the school, one of whom still works at the paper, both of whom are married to each other, and both of whom I hadn't had occasion to really talk to in nearly 13 years.

I roped Jeff into the plans for the book discussion, given that he was the author and I was merely one of the editors, and who the hell wants to hear stories about editing?

"So, I said to Jeff, 'Jeff, if this Thin Mints reference refers to the Girl Scout cookie, it needs to be capitalized because it's a proper noun.' "

See what I mean? Not exactly riveting stuff.

Jeff, as always, was funny and charming, even if the whole scene was a bit like "Charlie's Angels," what with Jeff's disembodied voice emanating from a speakerphone on the table, although I look like none of the Angels, and at that moment, wasn't packing heat.

Not that I ever do, in case anyone missed that I was joking. The only heat I pack these days is BENGAY.

Which isn't true, either. But it made me chuckle when I wrote it down.

Who know what goes on in this brain of mine. A few nights ago, I had an awful dream about one of my friends having a heart attack, and last night, I had a lovely dream about meeting John Cusack.

I blame fatigue. I'm tired, but I don't sleep. And there isn't enough coffee in the world.

I might like to try swimming in it. Maybe I'd absorb enough of it through my vast expanse of skin to make a difference. And maybe then I would have the energy to exercise again. Because otherwise, the next time Google Maps takes some satellite snaps of the globe, I might be mistaken for a new land mass:

"What is that?"

"Where?"

"There. Next to Greenland."

See? That wouldn't be good.

And once again, I'm rambling. Which is a good sign that I should stop typing. And maybe take a nap.

Until tomorrow, then, when I might have a coherent idea for a post.

Or not.

6 Comments:

Anonymous Cat said...

Is it sad that I followed along perfectly? I hope your father is OK and that you get your coffee swim. BTW, I laughed at your packing BenGay line, too. And that new landmass next to Greenland? That's me. (FatGirlWalkin, remember?) Not you. ;)

Wishing you sleep and more happy John Cusack dreams...

1:35 PM  
Anonymous Tracy said...

Wishing a speedy recovery to your dad. Sorry to hear he was in the hospital.

9:22 AM  
Blogger Beth said...

Thanks, Cat. Glad to know I wasn't writing in tongues. : o )

And thanks for the John Cusak wishes!

9:22 AM  
Blogger Beth said...

Oh, thanks, Trac. He seems to be on the upswing again.

9:23 AM  
Blogger Natalie Mikolajczak said...

Fine! I get it! I went into my post and capitalized THIN MINTS.
There is a reason I am an accountant. :)

I hope your dad is doing well.

2:07 PM  
Blogger Beth said...

You're funny, Nat. The "Thin Mints" reference wasn't directed at you, but good on you for picking up on it. : o )

Dad is doing better, thanks. He's back to his White Castle-eating ways.

3:26 PM  

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