JB, who is weary enough taking care of me and handling all the chores around her, is standing at the bedroom door at 3 am. She is holding a half dozen metal hangers and is not happy.
"I can't sleep. I'm going upstairs."
'Okay," I say.
I toss in bed for ten minutes, fretting that she is exhausted with a work day ahead of her.
Then I remember we don't have an upstairs.
An actual hallucination: the oxycodone has gotten to me.
I've begun to wean off the stuff. It's made me sick and I'm unreliable. There is already an increase in pain but not too bad. I'm rounding week two and still better than expected.
I haven't done Thursday Thirteen in a long while. So why not tonight:
Where I was in the hospital
Where I wish I were
Wishes for a friend's hot heavy move this weekend
Thanks to Liz who stayed for three days and tracked down the drugs
When I think of my father
Instant smiles = zinnias plus salt and pepper shakers
Where I gave it up and asked to move on
When love just is (JB and my Mother)
When the kitchen got remodeled
When three boys and one girl was just two boys
When I forget
Where I love
And where is Emily?!!