Can't have any cheese, being lactose intolerant. Or real wine, being pregnant and all. So I need to whine.
But first, a medical update, last night I found out that P. has come out of his coma, and has no physical repercussions. Unfortunately, he seems to have brain damage of some sort, or else he underwent a total personality change while asleep for 72 hours. He sounds and acts articulate and intelligent, but doesn't seem to comprehend anything that has happened. It's like the antifreeze and pills destroyed the parts of his brain he used to use for executive functioning. And this used to be such a gentle kind wonderful man, a CEO, a brilliant guy who had such class and dignity. He had depression and was taking medication for it, but he was still himself. Now, even my husband, his own brother, barely recognizes him. Unfortunately, his wife is pretty damn useless when it comes to a tough love approach to serious mental illness. She has no idea, (hint lady: consult a psychiatrist and a neurologist? Then force patient to follow through, stop feeding his issues and making them worse). She is completely helpless in any situation that doesn't involve a credit card and designer clothes.
So yes, ladies and gents, the worst case scenario has occurred, he lives, but not well, and may never again. I feel such agony for my husband's family right now.
The current fight, by the way, is how to get him to either be committed there, or here. Here in Canada is better because he will have no choice but to focus on his own issues, and can't show up sick in front of his kids, but oh how hard it will be to be so far away from them. I'm hoping that when he feels a bit more even keeled, we can get them to come visit, and he may be able to be keep it together for them. Maybe they won't have to grow up without a Daddy.
I have hope that there is worse and better in this situation. He'll never be perfect ever again, but he can be better than he is now, and that's all we can strive for now.
Back to me for a moment if you don't mind; I'm feeling kind of bitchy and tired since I am alone without my husband and big and pregnant and tired and my kids are acting up and there are a zillion inches of snow, and well, FUCK.
I know that it is selfish of me to be upset about being alone on Valentines Day when my husband is trying to help his sick brother, but would you all understand if I just need to whine a little and not be stoic?
I'm just so tired of being stoic. It takes a lot of energy. Energy I just don't have.
Plus anyone I've spoken to in real life about this just keeps saying stupid things that imply that he is at fault in some way for being sick because he must be such shit to live with and his wife must be some sort of long-suffering martyr----except that SHE ISN'T. She is in fact the polar opposite of a supportive spouse. Oh happy day, no one in blogland has said this stuff to me, and thank you thank you thank you for that. I just want to hit some of those real life twats, because when they start in so smugly on how hard it is to live with "those people" it feels like they are implying that he deserved whatever he got and somehow anyone who attempts suicide is characterless and a write off as a human being.
Oh, I know that isn't coming out of their judgemental lips, but it feels like it.
So I'm sad and frustrated and all alone on Valentines Day. Not precisely the romantic day I had planned.
I'm going to go drown my sorrows in cupcakes now. Specifically chocolate cupcakes with pink icing and sprinkles.
Lots of sprinkles.