You can’t make stuff like this up

Actually, the last few times I’ve said that, I didn’t use the word “stuff.” Let me tell you about my week; parts of it were probably a lot like yours and I hope the other parts weren’t.

I ate an entire box of little debbie’s oatmeal pies in about three days. THIS IS NOT APPROPRIATE SELF CARE AND I DO NOT GIVE A DAMN ABOUT SELF CARE THIS WEEK, GIVE ME THE COOKIES.

You probably heard about the explosions that turned out to be bombs in Boston on Monday afternoon.

On Tuesday, Spouse was drafted to take his mother up to Bangor (more than an hour north of here) for some cardio tests which she had assumed would be outpatient. After a day of delay, confusion and testing they admitted her up in Bangor Tuesday night. More testing Wednesday which ended in a “You need this but we can’t do it here” and a four-hour ambulance ride down to… Boston on Wednesday night for urgent heart surgery.

My father-in-law and middle brother-in-law headed down to Boston on Wednesday night. Youngest brother-in-law had a meltdown because he had to go to work Thursday and couldn’t go with them. MIL had the first round of surgery Thursday, a bypass complicated by her numerous underlying medical conditions. She will have more surgery in the next few days, we hear. (We heard a lot of conflicting things, getting all information via FaceBook and email, filtered through middle bro, who’s a smart guy but a really creative speller sometimes.) Spouse and youngest brother-in-law made plans to go down to Boston tonight. Meanwhile, FIL and middle bro hunting for an affordable place to sleep in Boston since they can’t stay in ICU with MIL.

Then of course there was that manhunt and lockdown of the entire city of… Boston.

It’s eleven o’clock at night. Spouse is asleep, finally. Youngest brother-in-law is napping downstairs on the lazy boy. They’re planning to drive down in the morning and stay the weekend.

I’m planning to take some boxes up to my in-laws’ place and start boxing up some stuff to get it out of the way for when we have to get her back into the house. We have a couple of weeks at least. But it’s going to take all the time we have to get the place safe for someone convalescing from major surgery.

And this doesn’t even begin to get into the family dynamics part of this mess. I want to talk about that, but this space feels too public now and I’m not sure where I can put it.

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