Monday, August 30, 2010


To say the least, its been a nice distraction to have my parents and Jedi (10 y/o) nephew here. When Jedi saw out collection of Star Trek/Star Wars/other sci-fi movies, he practically ran up the front of me, to give me a hug, saying: thank you! I am so happy! I am so excited!

I guess Vor and I just get him.

We've gone to the Indy Zoo (very cool, loved the aquarium), the Children's Museum (amazing! Jedi went crazy in there!), and today is the Carmel Water Park. It's been really great.

On the other hand, it would have been helpful this weekend to be able to retreat, to hide in the house, to cry and rage it out, and talk about what happened. Sleep would also have been helpful. I finally got a full night's sleep, but I know Vor hasn't.

We're both having nightmares. I can only tell you how vivid and terrifying mine are; I can't speak for him. I imagine--I know-- they are worse than mine.

Friday, August 27, 2010

No Words Can Say

We've had a horrible incident here that's kept us up all night, with lots of tears and grief.

Thoughts and prayers, please, and for a day of relative safety.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Like Nails

It's been awhile now, and I've been able to process what happened. It doesn't make me any less sad, but I think I've processed it. I finally was able to sleep last night without crazy dreams involving this case.

Of course, there was the requisite meltdown over the weekend, when even more bad things happened in this case, but that's another story.

I found myself very annoyed yesterday when listening to parents bickering in court over basketball and child support. Seriously? This is your emergency?

My mom frets that this job will make me hard. Maybe it has made me less trusting, but I don't know about hard. I don't think that comparing different emergencies against each other, and deciding that one most certainly trumps the other makes me hard or uncaring. It just means I've got a whole new perspective. One I never wanted, but I have now.

The case file is sitting open on my desk in my office. I can't quite bring myself to close it and put it away in the file cabinet. It's like admitting defeat. I also have all the new paperwork from this disaster sitting in there, loose. Every time I pull out the hole punch, I hesitate.

What's even more depressing than the death itself is the aftermath. The fighting, the police calling, the jurisdictional quagmire between limbo, and two counties, and a surprisingly undefined state of law.

Each new thing that seems to happen every day with this case is like a pinprick, but not from any small sewing needle. More like a nail that was in a 2X4.

So, perspective. It's handy. But I think that being just a little bit harder than I am would be helpful too. I can't not sleep at night. I need to put it away, close it in the file cabinet, and turn off the light.

Monday, August 16, 2010


To explain the inscrutable title--not that you will ever figure it out--

Amid the window cleaning, the wall scrubbing, the painting, the dog chasing, the food making, the food baking, the crazy case making;

amid the hospital trips, the hard diagnosis, the what-if's and will we ever's, the year of full working, the year of full time actually living together, the summer days and winter nights that stretched on forever;

amid the bar exam one, and bar exam two, the house bought, the do it yourself move;

amid the tears, the crying, the laughter, the growing, the knowing that when I come home, you'll be there soon;

amid all the craziness that has been going on around us, two years have passed.

Happy Anniversary, Love.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010


There's a first time for everything.

I imagine saying that to my kid(s) about losing a tooth, riding a bike, going through a breakup, etc. I imagine saying it lovingly, comfortingly, and sarcastically.

I don't imagine repeating it to myself, over and over, like I've done all day today.

This is the first time someone on one of my cases has died.

I've been stunned all day. I found out last night. I don't think I slept at all, except for that brief time where I dreamt that everyone involved with this case (the children, the parents, the grandparents, the aunts and uncles) went out to dinner with me and had sushi. Riddle me that.

Please, please, please. If you think someone is depressed and in need of help, reach out. If you think a child is not in a good place, call your dept. of child services. If you think an adult is in danger, encourage them to seek the help they need. If you don't know what to do, call a crisis hotline. They know what to do.

What a waste of potential and life. It's been breaking my heart all day.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Game Changer

It was so cool this weekend, then suddenly, it was hot and muggy. Vor is listless, the dog is listless, I'm listless... and restless.

I can't focus on work. I'm attributing this to the fact that its pretty much been a year now since I've had time off in the school sense. Remember those heady days of taking a week--two weeks--a month--off at a time? Yeah, I still do. I want to get me some of that again.

The restless part, the part about not sleep and weird dreams, comes from worry. It's always bad when I'm making casseroles, and here I go again, making another casserole.

What do you say in the face of a scary diagnosis? One that people don't understand? One that reveals a time bomb, silently ticking, creating more explosives from your own body to eventually blow you up with? I don't say anything. I make food.

Our friend is out of the hospital. The sudden illness, the strange symptoms all have a name and a face. There's goal, and a plan. But there is also an endgame, and it's not one anyone has any input into.

I wish we had pushed harder when he withdrew these past couple months. Vor and I kept saying, where is he? why won't he call? why won't he get breakfast with us anymore? yet we didn't push the issue. How do you, really? Especially when he has close family in town--if there was anything wrong, they would push the issue, right? We all stood around, waiting for someone to push the issue. Not that quicker action would have changed things, much. This diagnosis would still be there. But maybe other damage would not have been done.

Anyways. Instead of some forethought, or some prior action, there is now after-action, a casserole baking in my oven. I need to tend to that.

Just so you know where I've been. And just so you know where I'm going.