that time again

to just pray.

or think.

or contemplate.

or meditated.

or send good thoughts.

or speak in tongues like some people say they can.

If you do any of those things, or something else that's like legal n'shit, please do. Cuz the daddy-o isn't good.

Spent the day in the ER with him. He's been here all week and was supposed to leave today. During an initially unrelated conversation with his Oncologist (that's a cancer doctor - and the convo wasn't supposed to be about his travel plans) I was advised to take him to the ER to have him cleared for travel. They ran a boat load of tests and determined that.........wait for it.......it's really freaking sick.

um. hello. we knew this.

So once we convinced the (very well meaning) docs that, no, we were NOT going into surgery for the piss-ant gall stones and that, no, we did NOT expect them to 'fix' him, I think everyone is on the same page. Which is - Get this man well enough to take a stinkin' 2 hour flight without freaking out and trying to open the door to get home while at 30,000 feet. I joke, but only kinda. Bless his heart, he's so confused that this is a possible scenario.

so they admitted him.

They are:
* Pumping him with IV fluids (his really REALLY dehydrated. like the kind of dry that after 5 words your mouth glues shut and your sound well...like your mouth is glued shut. Which, btw, isn't a combination of sounds anyone should have to hear. like ever.)
* Gave him a massive Vitamin K shot (um, what does that do? and what the hell food is Vit K in that I'm not eating but should be? Pretty sure that's not in Beth's brownies or Cold Stone)
* Giving him 2 units of Plasma (cuz he's low on oil I guess. Who knows why...But if you ask him it's because they had to stick him 3 times - well 5 times really till they got it right - and you end up with less blood when they keep drawing it - DUH!)
* and prolly something else that I can't remember cuz I'm freaking dog ass tired. I'll remember the minute I 'publish post'

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaanyway. Pray for us. For my brother, Michael, especially please. He's (admittedly) about to crack. He had dad this week so had to deal with all the crap 24/7 (oh hell I used that phrase. I hate that phrase. Might as well say ASAP, or "andwhatnot" now) I'm doing a tad better but only cuz, well I dunno why. Maybe it's cuz I already spent a week in the fetal position about this. Or maybe cause I'm completely numb and only *think* I'm doing better. Maybe my brother is bloggin right now talking about how close to the edge I am.

okay, we're both ready to crack. So pray for us. And crack a joke if you see us. We could use a laugh.

Love you people. I really really do!!!