torn

Here follows a clinical definition of "sandwich generation:" At this moment, I am waiting to hear from Ottawa; my brother called at 8 a.m. to say that my mother tried to get out of bed during the night, had a fall and broke her elbow and her hip. She is now back in Emerg. He was on his way and will let me know what the situation is.

At the same time, my daughter texted that she is taking her son to the nearby hospital, because she thinks he has croup. I am waiting to hear from her.

I have offered to go to Ottawa if needed, and across town, if needed. At the same time, my life goes on. This morning, when my brother called, I was preparing the final draft of a 4000 word manuscript to go to a literary competition, deadline today - a story I've been working on for months, finally nearing completion. I was sitting with the Thesaurus in my lap, trying to find a better word than 'discussed.' Conferred? Explained? Confided? In the end, too much was going on, I put something in and sent the thing off. Don't remember which word I chose. Spoke of, I think.

Tomorrow is scheduled a big Christmas and birthday party here, my longterm students coming to a potluck to celebrate the 85th birthday of one student and the successes of the others. Should I cancel? I've let them know to watch their email.

My son is volunteering today, he and some friends delivering Christmas presents in a van, not free till tonight. I will go prepare a small suitcase. And then I'll text Anna. And then I'll sit and wait.

2.45. So how did I handle the stress? It's Wednesday, what do you think? I went to Carol's class at the Y. Talk about stress-busting - nothing like running up and down the central stairs at the Y 3 times. My, that felt good.

Spoke to Anna; the baby has been admitted to hospital with croup. Spoke briefly with my mother; the Emerg doctors have to figure out how to handle that fragile body that has been through so much.

And now, eating a lot of chocolate and waiting some more.