I woke today to news that Amma may be discharged in a day or two. Panic set in. Was she really okay? What if she got sent home and her condition worsened? How will we manage to clean the home and make it ready in a day? What preparation do we need to do in order for her to take it easy as she recuperates? The questions bounced around in my head. It was only 3:30 am.
By the time it was 9:00 am and my work day started, I was a little more collected, a tad happy too. I messaged all the people who have been worrying with me. The collective good will felt a little too much to handle. What if I had jinxed it by sharing news of improvement.
The second guessing, the involuntary adrenaline spikes each time a message notification appears, the incessant worry, the inability to focus on anything else. This liminal space we exist in before things head to an eventual conclusion is wearying.
Tomorrow will be a better day.