Something must have been in the air today. Corey started off with an attitude and energy that was so bad, neither Madelyn nor Maisy wanted to be near him. Neither did I, but not the same as them, haha. Not sure what his deal was, but by the time we were on the road this morning, he seemed to have settled back down.
He had school today. When it was over, he reported having passed three tests. An hour or so later his teacher called to discuss his lack of progress. Thankfully, Mom was able to take Corey back so he could do some of the things he had claimed to have completed. Between his problems today and the fact that he's grounded indefinitely from the computer for checking out porn... again... and causing problems on our computer... again... I'm not clear why my mom let him play Civilization this afternoon.
Every school I stopped at today had something come up that took longer than expected. One stop was supposed to last about 10 minutes, max. Forty-five minutes later, I finally clawed my way out the door (okay, that's a wee exaggeration... I love that class and would have liked to stay longer, but my schedule was slammed).
The teachers I met with or spoke to on the phone had one drama after another. At one school, I arrived just as one student was being wheeled out of the classroom and into an ambulance. It had taken the school nurse two minutes to locate her pulse because she is over-medicated. Her foster mother stood there claiming it was "not medical, it's behavioral." Yeah, right. A mentally retarded girl is feigning being unconscious with a weak pulse. We all get that the girl is "hell on wheels" without medication, but I still want to know who put this woman in charge of kids?!?
When all was said and done, I went out to see Ken and Nance at the hospital. Another friend, Evie, was also there. I walked in and proceeded to put three masks on my head. One over my nose and mouth and the other two over my ears. I can't always make them laugh, but it worked today.
Nancy has requested that the doctors and nurses continue to give Ken blood products until he is unconscious. That way he will never feel like he gave up or was a quitter. After my shenanigans, I went over to greet Ken. He looked so sad. He was so sad. He knows things are not working. I asked if there was anything I could do for him, expecting that he would ask me to pray. Instead, he shook his head no and said there was nothing anybody could do. I held his hand and told him I loved him and we all just tried to breathe our way through the pain. Ken's concentration on his breathing reminded me of being in labor.
We got through the moment and talked about cars and yards. I held back from saying anything like, "When you come up and see the house... ," but those thoughts were still right there, even though I know he won't.
I'm not sure why there were no tissues in his room, but we all agreed that the toilet paper is soft and absorbent, and thank goodness for that.
Sometimes he pulled one knee up as he lay there. That's how he was when I walked in. I honestly didn't understand that it was his leg at first. I thought maybe he had some sort of device to keep the blankets off his legs. It didn't seem possible that it was his leg.
When their son and his fiancee arrived, I hit the road. The drive to get Corey was uneventful, but between Mom's (where Corey stays) and Dad's (where Mad goes), there had been some sort of pursuit and an entire neighborhood was blocked off. Sometimes it's really good that all of my voice mail messages don't get to me right away. Here's the one my dad left:
"Hi Sis, just wanted to let you know there's a lot of police activity in the area. They're looking for someone from a pursuit. Call me before you come over. All of our doors are locked, but we don't want you having any problems getting out of your car and maybe getting hurt or having your car taken."
Then in true, Mr. I'm-In-Control-of-the-Situation, he added, "But we're fine so don't worry."
Tom just arrived home from what he said was his worst softball game ever. The man never curses... apparently unless it's his worst softball game ever.
So it seems like the best thing to do right now is to shut this computer off, crawl into bed and pull the covers... and possibly the pillow... over my head.