|Dog-Paddling Like Mad
||[Jun. 8th, 2004|07:25 pm]
|||||Piper frog chorus, outside.||]|
4 exams down, one to go. Terminal surgery the same day. I have about 400 pages to read between now and Thursday morning, and need to get my anesthesia protocol approved tomorrow for Thursday's surgery. Have, via good guessing and blind luck, done well so far.
At night, I can FEEL the grey hairs sprouting like bedsprings from the top of my head.
Monday, we were told that Terra was not going to be chosen as a clinic dog due to a "skin condition". I will always wonder if my notation in her records of dandruff over her rump was the deciding factor in her death sentence. I take care of her all day tomorrow, and on her final day. I'm heartbroken.
Am having the anxiety dreams again. Last night: Kevin, and dividing up our household. I hate that dream.
Once you were the meat upon my table
In a time of plenty
The wine sparkled in my glass
Refilled to a thousand toasts
A feast to last a lifetime, I thought.
Now the bitter lees confront me
In my discontented famine
The stale crumbs constant reminders
Swept into the corners of my life and dreams
The remnants of my former joy
That haunt the spaces in between
To trip me in the darkness
Of my daily blind routine.
Rained all day today -- storming, wonderful. A classmate and I discussed despair, and hopelessness, and how the schedule sucks all of the joy out of life, sucks the marrow from our bones. Exams and surgery drain me; I can feel myself turning gray around the edges, translucent, pallid, colorless. The disconnect sets in, and suddenly, like acquiring the psychic ability to see auras, I can SEE the depression bending around corners toward me like the absence of light, reaching long fingers into the corners of my vision, hiding behind things too small to obscure it, stalking me. MUST GET OUT!!!!!
Much more to write about... later. See you when I'm sane again.