Sleep Deprivation

I spent Sunday running on less than three hours of sleep. As you can imagine, it was an incredibly long day. I pushed myself to go to the hospital. I was surprised I wasn’t in and out in twenty minutes, as hospitals are more than a little traumatic for me. I managed to stay for quite a while. It was, quite possibly, a first. It might have been because the CICU rooms are private (another first), it might have been because it’s practically empty in there (It might very well have been the quietest hospital I’ve ever been to.), or it might have simply been a week’s worth of stress and concern relieved, to some extent, when I saw that there weren’t fifteen different contraptions hooked up to one person. Normally when I see that, I never see the person alive again. In fact, my brother has already informed all of the surgeons, doctors, and nurses NOT to allow me in if he’s hooked up to a multitude of devices. He’s afraid I’ll lose it.

As of yesterday, my brother is stable, but they’re trying to adjust his medication because he is losing electrolytes at a rapid pace, which is based solely on the medication he is receiving. Tests are being run in earnest so that they can move forward with surgery. Initially it was scheduled for this morning, but late yesterday afternoon a doctor came in and told him it was canceled so they can monitor him for several more days and adjust his medication before moving forward. That information was jarring. First he told me “Surgery is at 7:00 tomorrow morning.” and a few hours later he tells me it’s been canceled and explains why. I went through a myriad of emotions that were quite exhausting. Now obviously, this isn’t about me, but I am still greatly affected. His mood is better, and he was really happy to see me. He said it gave him strength to face what is coming.

Now that I know the direction they’re taking, I realize how sleep deprived I am from last week, and in general. I grocery shopped Sunday afternoon like a staggering zombie. I wasn’t entirely sure what I was buying, either. I saw a list in front of me and I got most of what was on the list (I still have to go back in a few days and get everything I couldn’t handle in the moment.), which I realized yesterday morning, but I was truly not functioning on all cylinders. I’m so stressed that I require reminders to eat, or I’ll simply feed Cat and Kitten and ignore my own body’s needs.

Cats aren’t on Daylight Saving Time, which is an adjustment for us humans. They’re waking me incredibly early (two hours or so earlier than normal.) to be fed, they’re asking for “dinner” at 3:00 in the afternoon, and Cat likes to screw with me by walking away from her food at least once a day. She patiently waits for me to “serve” them and then runs and hides as I try to scoop her up and put her in front of her plate. I can only catch her if she wants to be caught. She’ll wait a few hours and then roll a ball into my room while I work or drop a toy at the door. She’ll stare at me with her big, gold eyes and implore me to understand that I need to stay with her while she eats, that she requires protection from “the little one”. I picked Kitten up the other day to let her know her behavior was unacceptable and inform her that she’d already eaten and needs to leave her sister alone so that she can eat her own food in peace. She’s not “little” any more. The kitten behavior remains in her energy, curiosity, affection, and sweetness, but she felt like a small sack of potatoes. She could easily pass for a small turkey if she sits the right way and yet I will probably learn in a few months when she gets her shots that she’s about ten pounds. That’s the normal weight and size she should be for now. Her energy and weight will adjust and she’ll either remain the same weight or lose a pound or two. Torties are like thoroughbred horses (some, not all). Their running, jumping, troublesome, adventurous natures do not stop as they get older. Their personalities are more human, but they seem to take the whole “nine lives” thing seriously and do their level best to test them out. You either have a stroke watching this behavior or you get used to it. I try not to react too much since she is my second Tortie. Surprisingly, they are quite similar in many ways.

This week, despite only being Tuesday, feels like a cosmic joke. I write, I take care of normal things, but I’m not truly present in any way. There are always e-mails, phone calls, and texts at the moment. There are friends and family overseas that are deeply concerned and feeling guilty that they’re not present. I did not tell a lot of family members because it was against my brother’s express wishes and quite frankly, they don’t need to know. If people don’t care about you year-round, then they should not be allowed to lap up your pain and misery simply because it makes them feel superior in some way. I don’t understand people like that. I don’t find anyone’s pain amusing. I still have compassion. And sadly, if any of these people needed me, I’m not 100% sure I’d make myself available any more. The people who are always there for me know my heart and they know I’d take a bullet for them, but anyone that cannot stand by me in good and bad times, whether we are blood-related or not, needs to fuck off.

I’m not very receptive to excuses. In life and death matters, people should be present. My Aunt told me her children (my first cousins, all of whom should know better, but apparently my brother & I are the only ones that inherited brains.) didn’t attend my parent’s funerals because their children were sick. We’re not talking about infants, so my thought process was “Then ask a neighbor, a friend, or a fucking babysitter to watch them for two hours. You do NOT pretend like your Uncle and Aunt didn’t pass away, and by all that is holy, do NOT show up a year later and pretend like I am going to accept your presence as acceptable behavior.” If I don’t go to a funeral, it is probably because I wasn’t given enough notice, not because I am being disrespectful. You don’t ask a third-party to e-mail me about a funeral. That’s not how you do things like that. And if you do, screw you, I won’t be there.

My brother isn’t as fierce as I am. If a person doesn’t call or visit him in the hospital, he doesn’t take it personally. He told me last night that only a handful of people matter, and that I’m the one who matters the most, no one else. Even still, it makes me angry that the people who should be supporting him are not. You definitely see people’s true colors during hard times, but the truth is much more easily faked during good times. I don’t respond well to that. I know when people aren’t being genuine. There’s a huge difference between being nosy and legitimately caring about another person’s well-being.

And so, I have reached a “point of no return”. I’d rather cut the herd now, as opposed to continue dealing with fake crap. There are a few people who are about to be torn new assholes, and quite frankly, it doesn’t bother me in the least. No one deserves to deal with people who spew crap out of two different ends. No one.

I know many of you can relate to the family and friend dynamics I am talking about. It’s disgusting, but I think overall, we are all better off cutting people out that are cancers in our lives.