Yesterday I left Capital City, drove away from my father, who lies prone in the ICU. I felt like I left a chunk of my heart behind, the gnawing ache intensifying as we drove.
Yesterday I dropped Pea off at the airport, to fly back to Hilly Quirky city. Another piece of heart left behind, an added ache for the last part of the drive.
Today I sit in a deserted department, one day after a long weekend, first real day of reading week. I have reviewed a graduate application. I have written a section of a grant.
The ache continues, worsened by the news that my father will be going into surgery to stabilize his neck this afternoon or tonight and that the surgeons have inexplicably changed their plan from anterior approach to posterior – better long term outcome, but a riskier procedure and a much longer surgery (9 hours instead of 3-4).
I feel sick. I feel torn in pieces. I wish I were there, but the weather is so bad that it is barring the family that is there from getting to the hospital. I would feel sick and torn there instead of here, though, and that might be marginally better.