exhausted
I apologize, dearest of diaries for neglecting you so. I have been feeling entirely too much lately, so I haven't felt like writing much of anything. To say that I am exhausted would be a gross understatement, albeit, the only one I can come up with right now.
Last week I watched someone die.
She was a woman that I work with, that was part of my original team when I was promoted to several years ago. She underwent her 3rd, 4th and 5th surgeries related in an effort to remove cancerous tumors from her body. The 4th and 5th surgeries were unplanned and necessary to battle several complications that arose from cancer removal surgery number three.
I've hated hospitals since I was a small child, having to get tubes in my ears at the tender ages of 3,4 and 5. Tonsils out at age 9 and a number of hours in the ER when I fractured my finger; age 10. I hate hospitals more than churches because you are either there in a lot of pain or are there to die. One of the worst jobs I ever had was working in the food service area and having to deliver meals to the 'terminal' wing of the hospital.
Despite the fear I had, monday through thursday last week I was at the hospital. Sometimes it was for only 10 minutes after open mic night and sometimes it was for hours on end after work. I busted out my copy of King Leer because I figured the girl could use some intellectual stimulation, even if she was doped up on morphine. At one point during the week, she pleaded with me to quit being so truthful with her because it hurt to laugh so much.
The only time I took for myself was to go out on Friday in order to get a much needed break from reality. I arrived at the hospital on saturday (techincally morning) and met in the lobby by a small platoon of crying co-workers.
I didn't even give them a chance to say anything to me before I turned right back around and went home.
She was 35. Not sure why I have such apathy for dead animals and such empathy for people when it comes to death. I am really sick of thinking about it and can't get my mind to shut off, so I'm going a bit crazy. I also want to stuff every drug I can get my hands on into my body just to slip away from reality for a while.
I won't, because I've been hiding from reality way too long and just need to deal. But at times like this, I remember why I sedated myself, as hiding from reality sure beats dealing with it.
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