“Babe… babe… I’m going with Aunt to take grandmom to the hospital. She’s acting very confused.” It’s the wee hours of the morning. Still in twilight, I wish my husband a safe journey as he plants a kiss on my cheek.
I wake up at 5am to inquire of grandmom’s status. She’s currently in the overflow ER outside with Aunt General by her side. She’ll need to be readmitted to the hospital.
My husband and I text back and forth ideas of possible causes of her current condition.
I break the blender by plugging it into the 220-V socket rather than the 120-V. Not used to having to pay attention to this sort of thing. Dad notices and offers help on resuming smoothies prep, and asks Aunt-in-law 10 to lend me her blender. This time I plug it in correctly. The papaya-banana smoothie was perfect.
I spend the rest of the morning working on homework, and playing with my unborn son through my abdomen. He kicks, I push back.
My husband comes home around noon after a long night of sitting on a bench in the ER waiting for lab results. We head upstairs for a nap, when I wake up I let him sleep and head to catch up on computer stuff.
I spend the afternoon outside on the balcony lounging on the computer. It’s the perfect breeze skirting through the leaves of the top of the mango tree right in front of me.
At sunset I wake my husband up and make him some supper.
At some point I fall asleep on the couch in mom and dad’s room. When I wake, my husband has already gone up to bed (after waking me to remind me to brush my teeth). I waddle up the spiral staircase. My dreams hit my brain when my head hits the pillow.
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