can't stop the damn dreams
brain's working hard to process
wish it would hurry
The dreams started in the hospital. Accidentally driving off cliffs, having a trach implanted in my leg, panic about being trapped in a hospital, me being a patient again…. For someone who doesn't get much sleep, I have enough dreams for the whole city.
Last night I dreamed I was compelled to walk into a dirty ocean (to show the kids it would be fun), but towering – and I mean towering – waves kept me above the trash. As soon as I started to fall, another wave would catch me and bring me higher into the sky until the people on the beach were barely visible. It was exhilarating and so scary. I knew that falling was inevitable. Then, I was in an old velvety, musty room, crowded with crap and people from high school and a tower of voice recording equipment. The equipment caught on fire. My fire extinguisher didn't work until I made it work by sheer force of will. Then I was out on a walkway at an elementary school and a toothless woman with a toothless dog was giving me advice I didn't want and don't remember.
I am afraid this blog is going to start being a record of my quick descent into full blown nutjobbery.
Maybe, though, as things settle down, the dreams will too.
Tonight, the wee one is in a play at school. Chicken Lickin. Our first home health nursing visit coincides with the play, so if we are comfortable with the situation we can leave Ike-a-saurus at home with the nurse while we all go up to school. I don't know.
This whole home health care thing is kind of weird. I like the idea of a nurse being here to kind of spot us while we're getting used to the equipment and everything, but it's strange to think that someone we don't really know will be in the house with us everyday for four hours. As a hermit, this is something I will have to get used to.
The doctors at the hospital want us to have someone here for 12 hours a day, but the insurance only pays for four hours. I might be naive, but I think that's enough. We can cluster some of his specific needs for when she's here. Though I am starting to see how a night nurse would be helpful. Suctioning a trach every 30 minutes all night long, plus breastfeeding does not allow for much sleep.
Damn. I just remembered he hasn't had his Prevacid today. And we know that elixir of unicorn tears and golden monkey butts is not to be wasted. I guess a nurse will help me remember those things.
After the elixir of unicorn tears and golden mokey butts is administered, I need to fill out my author questionairre for my publicist at Random House.
Has my life taken a turn for the surreal or what? I don't even need those fucking dreams. Things are weird enough as is.