So, here's the deal:

Beast has had two more shots in his spine since he left the hospital. He started physical therapy, finally, last week as he was starting to feel a little better.

Then, last Friday, his dad was sent from his regular dialysis appointment to the ER because he just "wasn't right." He has continued to be "not right" in spite of doctors trying everything they can think of to figure out what has gone wrong. He's had dialysis three times since admission, they've weaned him off all meds that could be making him tired, and they gave him IV steroids to keep pulmonary issues at bay. Except, yeah, he doesn't tolerate IV steroids; they make him hallucinate. So, he's been  completely flaked out for the last couple of days, leading to a distinct lack of appetite today. This is really not like him, to say the least. He is fading.

Beast has medical power of attorney, so if FIL is really unable to make decisions for himself, Beast has to. He's already refused--twice--to have him intubated as that is something FIL has repeatedly said he doesn't want. So, yeah, Beast is ...rough.

Beast's back has gotten substantially worse as the days have gone by, so that tonight he's in the most pain he's been in since the hospital, I think. Some of that can probably be attributed to the stress of the past five days, but he's also been sitting in bad-for-his-back furniture at the hospital, standing on his feet too much, pushing himself. Because this is just exactly the way he rolls. And much of what is going on can really ONLY be done by him.

And my job...omg, so awful. Two professional staff members have given notice in the past 9 weeks; they happen to be the youngest librarians in the building. OK, no, they don't "just happen to be" anything; they couldn't work with our boss, who is truly unworkable-with in many ways.  There is a mutiny afoot as a result. Even I, who haven't had nearly the number of issues with her that other people have (for me, she's mostly just pesky, like that fly that won't stop buzzing around your head for hours), went in and told her I was really, really angry about not being asked about picking up extra hours; I've only been asking for full-time for 5 fuckin' years! She is not professional about her job, either. But, I'm leery; I know how easily things could be worse. So, a little of the ol' rock <--> hard place for me.

Did I mention the last ten days has been the worst allergy season I've been through in the past several years? I feel like warmed-over shit, tired from all the Benadryl and Zyrtec I'm downing to keep me from tearing my throat out. It doesn't help that I'm not sleeping well because of all the other shit going on. At least the Benadryl at bedtime knocks me right out for the night. Last night is typical of the nights I don't do that: slept 11-3, rolled around for another 90 minutes pretending to sleep, gave up at 4:45 and did a crossword until it was time to get up at 5:30. At least I'm not bugging Beast; he can't lie flat, so he's sleeping in the recliner in the living room.

This is why I'm offline. I've dug out the old CD for The Sims and I'm playing that again, as escape. Gah.

THANK GOD Sparky isn't around for this. He is blissfully unaware of how dire things are back at home. Which is just fine.