5/11/04

I'm at the hospital now and I should be working on this report for work, but I'm not. Mom is sleeping in the bed next to me. In a way it's comforting and in a way it's disturbing. She's not concerned with making sure I know she's OK or going to be OK. She's just laying there breathing deeply hooked up to her machine that is hydrating her. It's the same machine that gives here the chemo, just a different bag. I always thought Chemo was some type of room they put you in and shot radiation beams at you but it's not. But for this round it's just a bag they give her, it's orange.

I don't want to even think about it, but it seems to be a changing of the guard. The time when the kid(s) start taking care of the parents. I don't like this.

there's a nurse here on the floor who speaks with an English accent. Mom asked her where she was from and she said Dallas. 'So where did you get the accent?' -oh that? Well I went to school in England for nursing and was there 5-years. Now if I went to west Texas to go to nursing school, I can pretty much guarantee that I would not come back from that place speaking with their accent 5-years later. That has got to be something you work on on a daily basis. She just walked by the room talking about some medicine for another patient.