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.
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.