Before I start really writing this post, I have to mention that I’m punch drunk from staying up for thirty-four hours. I feel like my eyeballs are swimming in frontal lobe fluid, if there is such a thing. So I apologize in advance if this post isn’t grammatically correct, sensical, or replete with the correct amount of outrage, though that last one really shouldn’t be a problem.
You see, after I wrote last night that if I didn’t show up until late today, I was probably dealing with some challenges, I tried to put Alex to bed and failed. He began coughing, then he began having a hard enough time breathing that I figured it was time for the hospital. We arrived there at about 10:40pm.
But of course when he wasn’t laying down, he wasn’t that bad. So we sat. And sat, and sat. I’m not sure what time it was when he got a room with a bed–1:30 maybe?–but I remember looking at the clock at 4:44 when he was getting his IV in. They brought me a breakfast at 5 … Saw the second doctor of the night at 9:30 … Got a room on the floor (he was admitted with pneumonia, again) at about 3:15, and I got out of there at 4pm. I think I slept for about 45 minutes, sitting in a chair. And Alex did no better. The few times he dropped off other than the 45 minutes he got when I slept, they woke him up after 3 minutes of sleep.
He was still refusing to lay down when I left.
So yeah, all that to say Alex is back in the hospital for at least one night. And I’m falling asleep while I tyepzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
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