I started the week out in productive manner, winning a conviction at trial in a mere day and a half and getting an accomplished young criminal to 8-10 years behind bars.
As is usually the case after a trial, I was well nigh worthless the rest of the week. There is usually an adrenaline rush at trial, and the letdown is tough to overcome. I finally managed to get some paperwork done late in the week, but I am ill prepared for this week.
Add into this mixture of apathy, ennui, adrenaline, anxiety the fact that Karla and I were SO READY for the doctors to schedule inducement LAST THURSDAY. Now my mom has been here for over a week to help with the new baby...and still no new baby.
Oh, and I apparently caught the flu bug from Katie, who caught it back from me. I left work early on Friday with the beginnings of fever, aches and fatigue. Saturday morning the fever was down so I gutted out a golf lesson, only to sweat buckets and end up planted on the couch for the duration of ESPN's endless Saturday college football extravaganza. All things considered, it could have been worse, I suppose. The capper on that crappy day was the first 3 quarters of State getting pummeled in the rain and losing more players to injury. I quit on them after 3 quarters with a 102 degree fever, the Pack hopelessly down 31-10.
Then, at some point early morning, I awoke deliriously to hear Katie sobbing in bed with Karla, complaining of her tummy hurting. Then I heard coughing and subsequent upchucking, a desperate moan from Karla, and, in the most pitiful voice ever "oh no, barf. Katie barf. Tummy hurt."
My mom offered Karla some assistance in the late night stripping of the beds, clothes and other infected and sullied linens. Katie got a bath, Karla got a shower. Meanwhile, the whole event transpired around me in a surreal haze. I knew what was happening, but I was a powerless zombie in my fever induced stupor.
Finally, Sunday morning my fever broke and Katie crashed on the couch giving Karla a break. Katie and I were both dishrags for most of the day. The house still smells like Lysol...
I remember when I was younger and I would wait for a friend to come over to play, it would seem like forever waiting to see the car come down 14th Street, slow and turn into our driveway. As life goes on, the waits get longer and more unbearable for the bigger events. Nothing gets much bigger than the birth of a child, and this waiting is taking a toll.
This weekend, feeling cramped and miserable with fever, confined to a couch, I was transported (hallucinated?) to the longest flight I've ever been on-a 4 hour flight from Dallas to Mexico City. Certainly, I have been on longer flights. But this plane was old, cramped and smelly. And if you have never been to Mexico City, it is hard to describe its vastness as it spreads endlessly over the valley floor and hills up to the edge of the mountains that ring the city. As we made our descent into the area, I was comforted knowing we'd be on the ground soon. We then circled for the better part of an hour waiting to land, the sun blinding me, the heat overwhelming, the must of all the people trapped together in that silver tube. As we made pass after pass, my head got lighter and dizzier. The view from each angle the same-small buildings stretching endlessly on a grid.
This waiting has taken on a similar feeling (aided by fever and exhaustion). The endless circling waiting on this little one just as dizzying, just as seemingly hopeless. The one comfort I have is that the plane landed safely, let us all off, and life went on. This event will come and go, and time will not stop. But sometimes it sure feels like it has and we are circling the runway for all eternity...
No comments:
Post a Comment