January to January: A Journal

November

November 6

I don't know why but November makes me feel...jolly. The Christmas season for me starts on November. It's not as if my family was big on celebrating ANY holiday (birthdays were no-big-deals, remember? If my parents can't be bothered with their own progeny's dates of birth, how much more for deceased historical personages'?). The very air starts to take on a sharper, crisper feel to it. I start celebrating Christmas while majority are still reeling from Halloween hangover. Speaking of which, the coven had a collective hangover post-Halloween. Except little ole' me of course. Non-alcoholism has its advantages.

I'm compelled to write today because Gail had officially rejoined the world of the living today! See? November brings good things! The whole Tarot card incident jolted her back to her senses (how exactly, I don't know and I don't care), prompting Gail to announce her readiness to enter into the hospital (a big plus was that it made Mr. Doctor beam out a triumphant smile). I mean, Gail was our alarm clock, jumping out of bed and (I kid you not) declaiming her intent. The group cheer sounded deafening then, causing Gail's nervy security staff to come barging into the room, which in turn caused raucous shrieking on the part of the histrionic girls (Patty, Gina, Jenny, and you guessed it – Jack). As if any sane hetero male would ever deign to enter the depths of that hell. So of course, the whole insane lot (me included) insisted on accompanying Gail like some weird Roman parade of victory. And take note, Journal, we went straight to where Darcy worked, without even brushing our teeth and in our pajamas. I mean, who does that? Apparently us. Thus, we literally looked like a weird parade.

Hen was (unfortunately?) present (by coincidence?) when we checked Gail into her suite. She raised an eyebrow and whispered, "I don't even want to know" when I scurried over to her to explain the situation. In hindsight, from a third-party perspective, I might have seemed like a newly-discharged psych ward patient rushing to thank his psychiatrist-slash-warden, but the latter just wants the former to get out of her sight.

It turned out that Darcy was right to worry, not that I doubted his medical sense. Gail was malnourished, lacking a healthy level of certain electrolytes, and had to have cardiac consult because her physician heard something in his stethoscope that made him frown. Darcy was explaining everything to the group after the multitude of tests were done, but Journal, you seriously can't expect me to swallow every minute piece of data when I haven't had breakfast yet and this huge thing happening LITERALLY first thing in the morning. I'd have forgotten the medical terms anyway. I guess I can only hold up to three really esoteric medical terms in any one day. The rest get brain-vomited out. But seriously, despite the semi-dire medical pronouncements, Gail became more upbeat by the minute, especially since she was never left alone in the suite. Gina had fleshed out a schedule where at least two of us were always beside her, even when she's asleep. Guess who got the most days of caregiving duty? Yup, Little Boy Blue. Any wonder I only got the chance to write now? As the days went by, her physician smiled more in conjunction with significant progress shown in her test results. Gail looked healthier, happier really quickly.

But as the days went by, there were no calls or any form of contact from Gail's own family. Yesterday, Gina and I had a chance to be alone. We took the last shift of attending to Gail and had the dubious honor of finalizing the discharge requirements. During a lull moment, Gina made an off-hand comment, "That's it then. Family's officially a no-show."

I sighed. It was true. But at the same time, I couldn't stand that level of off-handed "sneer-in-cheek" attitude (I know, I'm hypocritical! But I'm the author of this shit, so shut up, Journal). I also had no energy to launch into what might turn out to be a verbal kung-fu match with an expert. I just nodded. Gina had the grace to not smirk in triumph (as she ALWAYS does to EVERYONE). My mind started to rummage through inanities: where were the kids? Didn't they miss their mom? Aren't the parents even concerned about what's the latest with Gail's health? Although if you think about it, Journal, since Gail's parents now have her children as heirs, it's totally within the realm of possibility her parents wouldn't care diddly-squat about their own child. I mean, future secured already anyway, right?