It's 1:47 a.m., and my normal insomnia has given way to the super-powered brain monster that is now playing out every possible life scenario that could happen for me.
Right now my grandmother is in the hospital, something I found out when I walked in my front door at 10:30-ish, even though Grandma actually entered the hospital at around noon. This would be something my grandfather decided not to mention.
We don't really know what's wrong, just some of the symptoms, and my brain combined with 5+ seasons of House and tons of ER--not to mention all my anatomy and physiology classes (high school and college) have sprung into action, detailing potential diagnoses, potential treatments, and their corresponding prognoses.
In short, this is not a good way to spend your Saturday nigh--morning, and there really isn't much hope of it turning around for me in the sleep department, unless someone were to stop by with some kind of sledge hammer, to knock me out.
To top it all off, I've been watching My So Called Life of late, and let's just say that isn't the show of choice to improve one's outlook and or world view.
On the up-side, Jen's car is fixed, we didn't die at the side of the road, and I've made some actual Ravelympics progress over the last two days. Also, I am sending this post out to all of you via our brand-new DSL, utilizing our wireless router to make it all happen.
Meanwhile, I keep sitting here, listening for the sound of Dad's Irish whistle--his phone's ring tone--so we can know what's happening in a hospital three hours away.