Don't know what day it is

Funny how the horror of Nutritional Boot Camp makes counting the days seem impossible. It's like early sobriety when I just kind of woke up out of the awfulness of it and realized I had six months. Only it's taken just four days (I think) to feel better. That's the nature of this drug, I guess, as opposed to one of the others.

Husband is better. Had a major electrolyte imbalance and a flareup of inflammation in the remaining quarter-sized piece of pancreas he owns. It's pretty sad when I have to tell the doc what blood work he might need and why his amylase and lipase might not be elevated when his pancreas is messed up.

I'm over the pissed off bit of withdrawal, I think, and am stuck now with tired. Another couple of days and all will be well.

On the phone in the ER standing near a woman who was sobbing her heart out, I overheard her say, as her companion's cell phone rang, "is it DHS?" I had a moment of intense gratitude that, though it may have been DHS, it wasn't me. I don't know what she did/was thought to have done/allowed someone else to do to her child, but at least it was not me who had to make that decision. Life is good today on just that realization alone.