My mother is still in the ICU. Thanks, y'all, for the good wishes and keep them coming. The breathing tube is out. She's doing better. Her blood pressure, which keeps going from off the charts high to off the charts low in more or less 10 minute intervals, is a worry. My brothers and I are now used to the walk in and out of the ICU: the washing of the hands, the trade off of one sibling for the next (only 2 people allowed in ICU at any one time) and my mother, who to us looks so much better than she did two days ago that we just don't care, except for calling the nurse when her blood pressure line becomes impossible, which is to say, more or less constantly. She didn't yell at us when the ventilator tube came out, anyway, and that was all we were worried about.
Meanwhile, I have spent enough time in the hospital to tell you that there is an entire tribe of people living there. I swear. I will elaborate later, when I'm soberer. Yes, fuck off, soberer. I have been at the hospital pretty much every waking minute these past four days and tonight, I went over to my mom's house and made dinner (and cleaned it up, sheesh) for both my brothers and the QOB and we drank some white wine and talked about times long past. There isn't, really, much to say, even though I have a giant blue mylar balloon dolphin in my car. Damn.