Metafilter!) and I can rattle on about the garden for a remarkable length of time considering that it's really only 10 feet by 10 feet of mostly drought ridden weeds, but eventually even I fall silent and then my mother, queen of the social graces that she is, feels the need to fill the conversational gap. Then I feel guilty at the sound of her rasping voice. This through the nose to the stomach tube is really, really bad. I mean it's really bad and I can't even crack a joke about it.
Anyway. That's about it. As seems to be the case with hospitalizations in the family, it tends to take up your entire brain. I think I'm very grateful indeed that this kind of thing is so far from routine that it does throw me this out of whack - it makes me somehow totally exhausted on a bone deep level. I'm one of the lucky ones, I guess - being at the hospital is a shock to the system and not a routine.