Random, deep thoughts
Yes, we got more snow. I'm starting to think people who constantly whine about the weather in their blogs are boring ("It shouldn't snoooowwww, it's sprrinnngggg" -- well, it did), and I don't want to be one of them, so that's all I'll say.
Been reading about, and talking with M about, the Terry Schiavo case. In a sense, I've never had to "pull the plug" on anyone (and hope I never have to), so I feel like I shouldn't comment. Reading this article reinforced that feeling. M is riled up beyond belief because of the legal ramifications of all this -- the federal government imposing on states' rights -- and because our friend W is scheming to get that feeding tube put back in. In a sense, I hope she passes peacefully while all the legal wrangling is going on, to make the decision for us. Look, you know what they say: They shoot horses, don't they?
But saying and thinking and believing that doesn't make it easier when it's your loved one in the coma. My grandfather went unresponsive with pneumonia before he died nine years ago, and it was too hard to watch him in that state. I couldn't handle it. I cried like a baby. I had to leave his hospital room for my other relatives to keep the vigil. I felt like a failure, like I left him. But I don't think he even knew I was there. It's like going to his grave now. He's not there. It just makes me sad, and it makes no difference to him. If I want to talk to him, I can do so in my own house.
On to happier topics. Sunday is Easter. I couldn't care less. We're going to my mother-in-law's for dinner, then perhaps to my grandmother's to visit. I asked M what he wanted for Easter. He didn't know or care either. He bought me a new outfit. There's a religious and spiritual significance to getting new clothes at Easter. I also like new clothes. :)
Been reading about, and talking with M about, the Terry Schiavo case. In a sense, I've never had to "pull the plug" on anyone (and hope I never have to), so I feel like I shouldn't comment. Reading this article reinforced that feeling. M is riled up beyond belief because of the legal ramifications of all this -- the federal government imposing on states' rights -- and because our friend W is scheming to get that feeding tube put back in. In a sense, I hope she passes peacefully while all the legal wrangling is going on, to make the decision for us. Look, you know what they say: They shoot horses, don't they?
But saying and thinking and believing that doesn't make it easier when it's your loved one in the coma. My grandfather went unresponsive with pneumonia before he died nine years ago, and it was too hard to watch him in that state. I couldn't handle it. I cried like a baby. I had to leave his hospital room for my other relatives to keep the vigil. I felt like a failure, like I left him. But I don't think he even knew I was there. It's like going to his grave now. He's not there. It just makes me sad, and it makes no difference to him. If I want to talk to him, I can do so in my own house.
On to happier topics. Sunday is Easter. I couldn't care less. We're going to my mother-in-law's for dinner, then perhaps to my grandmother's to visit. I asked M what he wanted for Easter. He didn't know or care either. He bought me a new outfit. There's a religious and spiritual significance to getting new clothes at Easter. I also like new clothes. :)
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