Sorry, Gnu. I'm not sure things are better...

I lied the other day when I said of any day since this sh...stuff began that was the day I might melt down. Nope. Today. I'm on the edge, but I'm not sure of what. It seemed like everyone on the road or in the store were aiming at me, trying to trip me up or something. I did let off a good scream coming down Priest Road towards home, but all that succeeded in doing was hurting my throat. (Damn! Do I NEED to learn how to scream properly?!?)

And yes, Spaw, I think ultimately the problem is the Ambien plus, possibly, something else that he normally doesn't take. I've got the list and I've got OUR list (of his normal meds) and I'm calling his primary care doc, but I can't do that until Monday. Meanwhile, I think it's agreed with his nurse and with the concierge, that he's going to avoid the Ambien (of which he normally takes half a tab). Besides sleep problems, he's been having bizarre and threatening dreams and other symptoms that seem to be in line with the caveats on that drug.

Tom may or may not be doing better. He couldn't successfully sit up or attempt to get into a wheelchair when I got there. Of course, being forced to stay on his back, his voice is very quiet, and, because he'd like to change positions, he's constantly shifting his left leg. But...we got him moved out of the room with the roommate who makes loud, strange noises all night. The room he's now in -- Room 147A -- is at the end of the same hallway and is very quiet, compared to a lot of the other rooms. Because of its location and because the other occupant (furthest away from the door) is not there during the day and is quiet and sleeps at night. Had a long palaver with Annie, his nurse, and Sharon, the concierge, and I think Tom's going to try -- this is real low tech -- warm milk to help him sleep. Actually, we can do warm milk with a bit of butter and honey which is a Lebanese specific to sleep and I know from experience it puts ME right out.

So...when I left him he was settled in the new room and I got things laid out in a familiar fashion for him, the pain med for his ankle pain was starting to kick in and he was getting sleepy.

Tom's new phone number is 603-431-0898 if my information is correct. Probably not a good idea to call him today, though.

Me, on the other hand, I don't think I'm doing that well. I just feeling...beleaguered. I guess I just don't know what else to do. I can't check with his primary care until Monday. Because of the situation, today was NOT the day to see if he can maneuver in and out of my car -- so it looks as if he'll have to take the wheelchair van to his surgeon's appointment on Tuesday -- and his insurance doesn't pay for that. (I'm just not thinking about the actual medical costs of his adventure right now -- I'm dealing with the immediate regular bills, plus getting the income taxes filed...neither of which I usually have to deal with.)

The slightest thing -- cat doing something annoying, little old ladies blocking the aisles (same two each with their own carts in THREE places! I had to concentrate on NOT succumbing to road rage), mail falling on the floor, etcet etcet -- makes me feel as if I'm just going to start screaming. Or else collapse in a teary puddle. (Less likely. I really don't cry easily even if I want to.) And my throat hurts from the last time I screamed. Tom's nurse and the concierge asked if I needed anything. I said, "Sanity?" They said they were fresh out, alas.

Well, that's the news from Lake Woebegone... I'll talk to Tom again later, probably after I eat something.

Meanwhile, I'm trying desperately to unwind a bit.

Linn