This morning I wrote about families and estrangement and holding on or letting go of pain and frustration—part of this journey, for me, is dealing with all of that.
But, before I got around to posting, more transpired.
It's all left me too tired to make dinner for the kids, to pour dog food in a bowl without spilling it all over the floor, to finish a sentence or a thought.
So, here it goes, in abbreviated form:
My brother saw his gastrointerologist today, who's concerned about his liver. He's got Hep C, which can cause cirrhosos—something I knew nothing about, really, but now do. He had 9 vials of blood drawn today, has a sonogram tomorrow, and if all that comes back fine, the transplant is back on the table. If things aren't what they should be, a liver biopsy is next for him. And, should it be that cirrhosis of the liver is indeed present, a transplant may no longer be possible.
A possible date has been floated, should all be fine (which for god's sake please let it be already), which is the first day of spring break. The first night of Passover, which we always host. That means I'd have surgery and then come home to recover with 2 kids and 2 dogs 24/7. That would mean more meals to deal with, more bickering to navigate, more boredom to assuage.
I'm already wiped out and I haven't done anything yet. The emotional toll of these ups and downs is starting to wear me down. My body finally gave out—I'm battling my first sinus infection in longer than I can remember and at the moment it's winning.
While I'm writing this I'm listening to Jack monologue about Pokemon. I'm making dinner. I'm getting ready to walk the pups. I'm making sure Iz gets her work done. I'm organizing my taxes. I'm cleaning the apartment so I can finish designing a resume for a friend.
But maybe feeling under the weather and filling up time will help with another long night of waiting.
I'm hoping tomorrow brings good news instead of more maybes.