Sunday MopUp 12/02/07
It's approaching 2PM here and it feels like I've been awake a week since I woke up this morning at 6AM. Here's what's going on:
Awoke at 6AM, needing to pee. I actually slept about 3 hours uninterrupted since this whole "Romancing The Stone" plotline surfaced back on Wednesday. As usual, I climbed out of bed, got into the bathroom and positioned myself above the commode with the strainer. And I peed.
Nothing out of the ordinary. I checked the strainer closely, because I'm desperate for some evidence of StoneHenge, but there was nothing. I shrugged, chugged another liter of water from my trusty Gatorade bottle, and climbed back into bed. That's when I realized that my side wasn't aching. I had last taken a vicodin at about 2AM, so I was well into the window of needing another. But, I wasn't cramping. In fact, I didn't hurt at all.
Well, I thought, either I'm still doped up from the last dose, or I'm too tired to realize that I'm still in pain, or maybe that fucking rock has finally hit my bladder. I'll just lie here a bit longer and see if I start to cramp up again.
At 7Am I still wasn't hurting, so I got dressed and jumped in the truck and ran to the store. Bought some cranberry juice, a gallon of milk, and a six-pack of Glucerna. Stopped at MickyD's and got their Big Breakfast (scrambled egg, sausage patty, hash browns and a biscuit). Look, I'd been nibbling on spaghetti made on WEDNESDAY all week. I needed something fresh, okay?
Got home. Could only manage to eat half the breakfast, took a swig of cranberry juice, guzzled some more milk, did NOT take any more vicodin, and crawled back into bed. Feeling good. Feeling damned good.
At 8AM I got a phone call from my mother in Michigan. I was happy to report how much better I was feeling and lalalala it's-all-about-me when she said that she was calling to give me some bad news.
My older sister, Rebecca lives in Virginia with her boyfriend, Dean. They have lived together for about 8 years now. Rebecca gets up on weekend mornings and hits all the flea markets in town. It's what she does. She loves that shit. Well, she got up this morning, kissed her boyfriend goodbye, and jumped into her car to leave. A half hour later, Dean went into the kitchen to make himself some coffee and saw her car still in the drive. When he went out to the car, he found her body slumped over the steering wheel.
My sister had a brain hemmorage.
EMS came out, rushed her to the hospital. Doctors operated on her to relieve the pressure on her brain. The damage is too severe. She was in a coma and was on life support until Dean, my Mother , and my Father all agreed to take her off life support. The Doctor advised it. The best that could be hoped for was her living in a nursing home in a vegetative state until she died.
I lost my big sister today.
I can't stop crying.
[Late Edition Addition: Turns out my sister has an organ donor card, so she is still on life support until she is "harvested", which will probably be in the next day or so. That gives my parents time to get up to see her, as well as Lisa, who desperately wants to see her sister before "God takes her to Heaven". Me? No, sorry. I love her, but couldn't bear to see her this way. I'll be there when a memorial service is put together]