Don't Dream It's Over

 My night is a relief. It was a busy day. It is a hard day, even now. Jenny didn't recognize or remember me early in the day.  We switched to liquid morphine, and her ludicity had a mild uptake. She knew me, knew my name, and knew that I was her husband.  That was a bright spot, fwiw.  

I laid next to her on her hospital bed for an hour, holding her hand and singing love songs of Billy Bragg--songs we listened to when we were first dating. The lyrics function on Google was invaluable. Her eyelids were either closed or at half mast, she wasn't home.  It left me feeling better, this close contact, even while mourning what we have lost, what we are losing.

Tonight, Abby's phone malfunctioned. I dropped everything and took her first to T-Mobile and then to the Apple Store, where the problem was solved. No stressors for her right now, I can't let it happen.

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