Day Two

Random thoughts as Gigi sleeps:
I'm surprised every time by how out of sorts I get in hospitals.  I mean, who doesn't, right?  But, while I wouldn't describe them as flashbacks, the door to the little closet in my head where I stash memories breaks, and I keep tripping over the emotional crap spilling into the hallway.

I remember looking over at The Girl, seconds after my c-section, as the NICU staff put an enormous oxygen mask over her face & told her to breath.  She did, obviously, but it certainly wasn't a natural hippy birth in a field of sunflowers.

I also think a lot about Brennan, still warm but not breathing.  Never going to breath.
Fucking hospitals.

I can't write about Gigi.  First, because she'd kill me and second, because this is really, really hard.

So on to lighter topics:.
On the way out I had to change planes in Las Vegas.  I didn't notice any ruckus but as we were boarding they were telling someone he wasn't getting on the flight.  Probably a frequent event in Las  Vegas but this was a short, middle aged accountant type in a button down shirt, not an inebriated frat boy.

There was also a curvy woman in a skin tight, low cut, butt-cheek short dress and bight pink hooker shoes.  She was right behind me in line so... I heard her on the phone asking her kids if they got their homework done, telling them to be good for grandma, and wishing them sweet dreams.  I am an asshole.

After a thorough study of the family amenities in several different hospitals' critical care wings, I can confidently announce Gigi's facility fails.  If I ever win the lottery I'm donating money to this ICU for better chairs.

Hug your families tonight.