Atomictumor

GAC still sick
Tradition, Sunday Haiku
So here it is, guys.

Well, GAC is in the same boat.  She got put on a little bit more blood pressure medication, and the BP is in the 70s, but it could be that the arterial line measuring it isn’t working too well.

She’s producing between 30 and 120 ccs of urine an hour, which you don’t do with really low blood pressure.  It ain’t a lot, but its hope.

I’m setting a thing.  I think during the day, I’m going to be stoic, as long as my family is here. I’ll be funny.  I’m making fun of Casey (other sister, drove in from Jacksonville’s marine camp with her husband last night) like we usually do, and I’m genuinely laughing.

At night, when everybody else is asleep, I’m going to let the gravity of this hit me, and I’ll write posts like I did.  Tonight I want to tell you how we met. I have a lot of stories, and I want to share them, if you’ll listen. Or if not, don’t really matter. I like writing.

Ironically, writing is easy.  A few weeks ago I was in a bit of a funk, and couldn’t write much. Now I can’t stop my fingers.  Its a lot easier to put it on Al Gore’s internets than to tell people about it.

I’m not good at attention.  I’m looking forward to the arboretum thing, but if I had my druthers I’d hide behind a tree and marvel at the people who love GAC that don’t know  her.  I wish she could see it.  Hell, yesterday we beat an Instalaunch with regards to hits.  Thanks guys.

This morning I woke up after what I estimate is 4 hours of sleep to Pigpen kicking me as he woke up.  I looked at him, and saw GAC.  He was always more her child, while MastaG was always mine, just because of the way they were raised and their personalities.  He’s just 4, and doesn’t have a grasp on whats happening.  He sees our grief, but doesn’t know what it means, and plays like a 4 year old through it.

He opened his eyes, and we smiled at each other.  He said “its OK”.  I told him it was.  I told him he is a miracle, and we prayed for GAC.

Then we watched Hoodwinked together. He’s now looking at a toy catalog and saying “I want that one too” with every toy he sees.

She’s still there.

I love you, my BJ.

The Missus and I were talking just a few minutes ago about how it would be good for us to get together. (I know. We’ve been doing that here on the ‘tumor for the past few days, but bodily form is the genius of this gathering. Tumorites need sunlight, too.)

Us Cemestos Gardeners (That’s me, Bos; Mrs. Eaves and all our children) are going over to the U.T. Arboretum around 3:30pm today. You can join us there if you’d like. Wear a jacket, it might be chilly in the shade. I don’t think they’ve hot wired the trees over there so it will be sans internets, but oh well…

Peace.

P.S.

Today is All Saints. Take a moment to remember all the Saints you’ve known. [ed. All Saints was this past Wednesday… ah well.]