We were supposed to go to Philly tomorrow to meet with Dr. Doolan to get the surgery schedule. Scratch that. November, here we come.
Anyway. It's 2:15AM, and The Wife and The Boy are asleep together on the inflatable bed. (Incidentally: if you're sleeping in a hospital, and you are not the patient, bring one along. WOW, it makes a big difference.) My choices are: sleep in the chair or luck into a family sleep room until 6, when it's time to get up, get ready & go to work; drive home, fall asleep around 3, and sleep until 6:40, quick dress & stop at Quick Chek on the way to work for an extra large IV bag of coffee; bite the bullet and stay awake four more hours and just suffer through the work day before crashing at home for a few hours before coming back to the hospital.
The latter would be my choice if I had gotten more than four hours' sleep last night to go with my hour-long nap this afternoon. Sigh.
Man, this sucks. There is no alternative here that is going to allow me to function coherently over the next few days.
Interestingly enough, we're in the same room we were in last week: 4311.
I'm going to work tomorrow, so please don't call my cel. It's for emergencies only, okay?