Done yesterday (20090502)

( raw notes )

Yesterday was rough. On the one hand, Colleen was at home all day. Emmy's prom happened; we ate at Chevy's at separate tables, and picked up her tab. She was gorgeous, of course.

On the other hand, Colleen needs an unexpected amount of care -- mainly assistance when using the commode. She may stay in bed all day. The filk community lost one of its own yesterday, and even though we didn't know him well, it was painful. And picking up the kids after the prom was made significantly more complicated by the cops starting to block off downtown in preparation for tomorrow's Cinco de Mayo parade.

I didn't get the shakes until I came home and started getting ready for bed, but I pretty-much fell apart then.

On the gripping hand, I had Colleen's arms to fall into. We both slept well, with the help of some cyclobenzaprine.

Oh, right. Baycon...

... is in less than three weeks. It looks as though both Tres Gique and Tempered Glass have concert slots, not to mention the TGl gig at Colleen's former nursing home on Thursday.

I guess I can officially start to panic now. Actually, I think I should have started to panic at least a month ago...

It's harder than I thought

Colleen's homecoming has made a lot of things better, but not everything. She needs a lot more care than either of us had been led to hope, especially using the commode (bathrooms are out of the question at this stage). We both expect that things will improve rapidly now that she's home and on her own schedule, but we're in unfamiliar territory nevertheless.

Colleen called one of her friends, who came over and took care of her all day, and cooked dinner before she had to leave. I am indescribably grateful. Even so, when I went out shopping I was distracted, and on the way back the world had an incredible look of unreality about it, as if I was seeing things through a thick, dark scrim.

Thinking back, it seems even more pronounced than the scrim that lifted when my depression ended. I think it is mostly a combination of depression and anxiety, and definitely situational this time.

A totally unrelated train of thought led me to look up dissociation, and its closely-related components depersonalization and derealization. Especially the latter. Yeah. That.

Put bluntly, Colleen needs somebody with her virtually all the time right now, and I can't do it. I can only hope that we can set up a rotation among our friends, so that I can get to work most afternoons. Mornings, I think, are hopeless: I plan to work from home. And hope that I can learn to actually work again, instead of spending my time either reading the web or being zoned out on sleep-dep and whatever drugs my brain is manufacturing for itself.

A couple of plates of pickles and olives seem to be helping; I may have to stock up at the office. A brief chat with Colleen (while working on this post), and the knowledge that she's used the commode several times without my assistance, helped even more. A fair amount of unreality still remains, however; the scrim is lighter now, but it's not all gone.