The third medical visit in 4 days and he was admitted for 72 hours' involuntary observation. Third time's a charm, I guess. Unlike yesterday's visit to the ER, he won't be able to leave when he gets annoyed by the lack of service.

I'm hoping they will see him at his worst, during the night terrors, sweating and shaking and pain. Maybe there's something that can be done for him. I hope so.

The house is empty. It is indicative of how completely his illness had absorbed my life that I'm wandering around, unable to relax, unable to sleep, waiting for the next summons, looking for something to do.

I even thought of driving to the WLA facility to visit and then thought, "Wait a minute. Talk about impairment of judgment and reaction time! So tired, I'm a dead woman walking. Visit? Drive 40 freeway miles in rush hour traffic the Friday before a major holiday? I think not."

So I'm trying to settle down, relax, and find my inner thoughts again. Nothing there. Just emptiness and anxiety.

I'll get over it, though. Nothing like sleep to knit up the ravelled sleeve of care (I love my Shakespeare). Tomorrow's another day.

Blessings on you all.