Sassy's Up Late Again

More family drama. Rusty's Grandmother had a stroke. We were getting phone updates every hour... she's very sick, they're moving her to another hospital, she's not going to make it, the doctor says she'll probably only last 3 or 4 days. Of course this is in the middle of the week, and Rusty's Asshole Employer only gives them ONE day of bereavement leave. One day. Can you imagine? Your spouse dies, and they expect you to be at work the next day? To hell with making funeral plans, right? So anyway, he had to make a decision: take one of his vacation days that are already scheduled for 2 weeks from now, and drive down to see her, or go to work one more day, then drive down to see her. A 3-4 day prognosis would imply that going to work would be the best option. Then more drama: his mom can't get down to the hospital. It's an 85+ mile trip from her house, her husband is a trucker and is out of state, her youngest son's car isn't drivable at the moment, and her car won't make it down there either. She's near-hysterical. They're all pressuring Rusty to drive to his mom's (35 miles from here), pick her up, and take her to Grandma. Only Rusty slept all of 2 hours yesterday because he had his daughter for the day. There is NO EFFING WAY I'm going to let him drive that long in that condition. I think I convinced him to plan to go to work one more night and then we'd drive down the next day. But naturally, he doesn't go to sleep after I leave--how can he when he's got at least 5 different family members calling him every 10 minutes? At 2:30 he calls me at work. Now Grandma's 3-4 days has turned into 3-4 hours, and his mom is hysterical. I am fortunate to have a much better employer and boss, who immediately agreed to let me leave early to take care of this family business. I get home not 15 minutes later, and Grandma has already passed. Rusty is on the phone cussing out a cousin who, in her shock and grief, has said something to the effect of "I was here with her when she passed, where were YOU?" (this same cousin has been out of contact with the whole family for 20 years, and as I understand it, this trip to the hospital is the first time she's seen her Grandmother since then). Of course Rusty lost it. Then there were the subsequent calls between other family members, meaning well, but complicating matters by throwing themselves in the middle of the argument. Eventually it all gets sorted out and we're packed up and drive to get his Mom. The kids started bickering in the car with about 15 miles to go. We finally make it, get directions to the room, and head up. Now in all my determination to get everyone from Points A and B to C, it never occurred to me that we were going up to Grandma's hospital room, where she died 3 hours ago. I guess in my head I assumed that by the time we got there, they would have taken her body to the morgue. They had not. And both kids were freaked out. Of course they were, I was, too, for a second. The stroke had left one side of her body paralyzed, and her face was slightly sunken in and drooped on one side, and her jaw was slack and couldn't be closed--a pretty gruesome sight if you weren't prepared for it. They were very well behaved and didn't DO anything to draw attention to themselves. I sat down in a chair near the bed and offered my lap and the chair next to me to the kids. DS plopped down in the chair next to me, but DS stood off in the doorway with her arms crossed in front of her and wouldn't come any closer to the bed. Rusty's mom was bawling (of course), and stroking her mom's arm, and kissing her forehead, then turned and hugged her two sons, both of whom were trying to hold back the tears. It was a painful moment for all of them. Then they all relaxed and took a deep breath and started a conversation. They sat and talked about their happy memories of Grandma in an effort to lighten the mood. DD still stayed in the darkened hallway. I asked several times for her to come sit, but she refused. I noticed she was getting a little red in the face, and she looked really upset. I got up and put my arms around her, and at first she just leaned into me with her arms still folded in front of her, and right about the time I was about to let go, I heard her sobbing into my shoulder. She's such a sensitive girl, I knew it would be hard on her to be around the grieving family. She absorbs emotions like that, so I expect her to be a little upset, but I hadn't anticipated the shock of the sight of Grandma's body, and hadn't prepared her. I felt incredibly guilty for having marched them into that room unprepared. Nick, ever the cool one, sat like he was waiting in a dentist's lobby, slightly fidgety and impatient, but respectfully quiet and non-plussed. Eventually we left to have dinner with Shitfoot, and had a pleasant time, actually. We decided to let the kids stay with their dad rather than cart them all over town and back again for the whole weekend. We went back to the hospital one more time and sat with his mom and uncle. In their grief, it was like they were kids again, crying for their mom. So sad.

So now I have one more shift at work and then 3 days off. Thank GOD.

And then there's my health. Doc added Cymbalta to the mix. He gave me the option to keep the Welbutrin. I'd been on the Welbutrin for 3 weeks and felt like some days maybe I was seeing improvement, so maybe it was just starting to work. After about 5 days of Cymbalta, I noticed some marked improvement. I still had pain and tender spots, but I could go an hour without thinking about pain. So then I had to contemplate dropping the Welbutrin. I decided to finish out the bottle--probably another 5 or 6 days. Unfortunately, it looks like I'm getting the same sexual side effects with the Cymbalta that I had with Lexapro and Paxil. Fuck. Now I've got to call my doc and try something new.

And on the work front: extra good news: My FMLA papers were filed, and Boss took a moment to let me know that any time I needed a break to sit down, to just go to the back and sit, I don't need to ask permission--I had asked the doc to include something in the papers about needing to sit for a few minutes every couple of hours. Later, the company bought us lunch (a reward for a previous success), so he took me with him to go pick it up. Having a few minutes alone, he took the opportunity to ask me how I was doing. He made it clear that the company is very, very good about FMLA issues, and I needn't worry about any fallout. Thank GOD. And on top of that, I just found out that as of my anniversary date (about 10 days ago), I got my vacation. Not only that, but I got TWO WEEKS vacation. And not only THAT, I have to take those two weeks before the end of the year, because I get a new two weeks in January. So when I asked for the first week off to be around Rusty's birthday next month, he scheduled it across the weekend, which meant I also have my regular 2 days off for each week, which gives me 9 days off in a row. NINE DAYS. Holy crap! Now only if I had some money to spend, I'd freakin' live it UP.