I didn't sleep much last night. Every time I managed to drift off after staying up late and fretting about our situation I kept being jolted away from the middle of a bad dream. I get those crazy anxiety dreams when I'm worried. And I am very worried about Jim's lone kidney and the recent symptoms he's having that point to a possible return of cancer.
Last night's dream involved being at a high rise hotel with my kids and husband and a fire breaking out on our floor. As the flames grew the hotel personnel herded us to the floor below. They kept assuring us that we were safe, when it was obvious we were not while the flames started to travel down to the floor we were on. I made a dash upstairs with Jim to try and rescue our possessions before we fled the building only to find burning bodies littering the upper story of the hotel. Then I woke up.
This was the only one of the anxiety dreams I had last night that I remembered clearly, but I have had some doozies over the years.
Jim is starting to develop more symptoms that something is seriously wrong. He slept most of the day, complaining he felt tired, weak and feverish, yet his temperature is perfectly normal. But the bleeding has stopped as far as we can tell.
The Costa Rica trip is still on, as of right now. I hope that if this is a kidney stone that it's no longer moving around. He's had a few bouts with kidney stones that have quickly spun into kidney failure. The last time he was hospitalized for a week before I took him home with a catheter tunneled through his side right into his remaining kidney draining out the urine. That time his kidney did resume working normally quickly, but dealing with his urineostomy (probably seriously misspelling this) was something of a nightmare. It leaked easily and I had to go out and buy new pants for him to wear that could accommodate the appliance. He went to work in D.C., at his office, in a shirt, tie, sport coat and elastic-waist athletic pants for a good six weeks.
It's things like this that make me wish I still had the unsullied and trusting belief in the comfort of prayer to the divine. I've stopped praying some time ago. I still meditate, but I no longer pray. Praying seems in some ways like the most selfish of acts, a 'gimme gimme' to the divine or a false buttering up to a deity that would be petty enough to demand worship or else.
I would have so liked to have attended the protest march on D.C. today seeing I live 60 miles out, but between the lack of sleep, my worry, my tendency to have asthma attacks when exposed to peoples colognes and smoke smells and leaving my less than well husband alone I decided it would be better to simply stay home.
Avoided as much of the inauguration hooplah as I could. Was extremely worried for my son because he's originally planned on going into D.C. and watching from the Mall. After reading about the beefed up police forces and the expected violence I was happy to learn that he stayed home with the flu instead. Why add to my stress? Stayed off Facebook most of several days too. Today was all about curling up on the sofa and crocheting in front of the fire. Meditative, relaxing, no stress.
Church is going to be difficult tomorrow. I don't want to go at all.