Life in the Traumatic Lane

My sister’s baby does not have Downs. Thank you, Jesus.

But the tumor that is in the uterus with the baby is growing. I would like that to stop. Now. And disappear.

My mom is in the hospital. It turns out to be a major allergic reaction that could have killed her. Wouldn’t have liked that at all.

My dad is home, befuddled. His meds aren’t working so they’re giving him new ones. But that’ll be a week plus down the road. And their house caught on fire this morning. And he won’t call an electrician. I’m not sure why. None of his grandbabies are going over there now because it isn’t safe any longer. Maybe that’s it. He thinks he’s going to get a break from caring for grandbabies.

I was very sick yesterday, throwing up and the other stuff, for about three hours. I’m still having problems with diarrhea, but I’m much better. Zonked though. No energy.

I’m busy, busy, busy. Behind, behind, behind.

And I’m on the most obnoxious day 23 of my latest period. Gag.