I'm back. I got in last night at 10:30, but was too fucked up to write. And not fucked up in the fun, leaving reality type way. Fucked up like "I hate this place. I want to go home. I want to go back. I hate everything. I miss my family. What the hell am I crying for now?" Yeah, it may have had something to do with the TWELVE FUCKING HOURS of travel (word of advice- don't fly with the airline who shares a name with river ecology...both there and back took at least four extra hours from my life). But I just felt, still feel, like shit.

And I get to go back to work tonight. Oh, happy day.

The trip was all hospitals and snow and submarine sandwiches. I'll write the details later.

My babci is still not well. I can't remember what day it was, but when I went into her room to visit her, she looked ten times better and was chatting away. Then the next day I saw her and thought she was going to die. The doctors are still trying to name and fix everything that is wrong. It's touch and go, says my father.

But, one of my uncles called my father's cell phone while we were waiting, waiting, waiting in Atlanta and said that the hospital had moved my grandma from the ICU into a regular hospital room. Which is good. Very, very good. Except she has not even begun to heal and will be in that hospital for awhile.

I don't know. It's hard to talk about since I have this feeling that my family is being overly optimistic and sugar-coating what they tell me. But then I also know that my babci is a very strong woman (she had eight kids, for Christ sake) and isn't ready to leave. I don't know what to say or what to feel, to think.

So, yeah.

Finally, thank you to everybody who wrote and left me messages. I couldn't really check Diaryland or read my email while I was gone, so I read everything all at once last night. And you jerks made me cry. And feel a million times better. And want to hug technology. So thank you thank you thank you. I will reply to every single one of you.

You're the greatest. Yes, you.

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