So I took some time off -- now there's redundant statement, under the circumstances -- this afternoon and went across the street to the AMC Theaters in the Northpark Mall and watched "Tropic Thunder." Pretty entertaining, at least the first half. And Tom Cruise very nearly redeems himself with a cameo performance as a deranged (fat, bald) studio head. The character also drinks Diet Cokes, so I suspect it's based on my old camp Kennebec bunk-mate Jeffrey Katzenberg, now a Hollywood mogul and known to be even more of a terror now than he was when we were 11.
After the movie I returned to the hospice. No change. I'd post another picture but... what's the point? It's the same as it was this morning, same as it was yesterday, and the day before. There is only one thing that can change.
Meanwhile, I received an e-mail from my friend Sharon, who has worked at the Alive Hospice in Nashville as a social worker (I think -- at least, not as family of a patient). She says that this place we're in.. is its own time zone:
Thinking of you guys – you have been in the hospice time zone – it’s a zone that only those who’ve been there know of – totally distinct from Central, Mountain, etc. And you’re right, that level of non-work – “just sitting around” is exhausting on ALL levels.
Sounds like she knows precisely whereof she speaks. "Hospice Central Time." That's a good name or this black hole we've been wandering around in.
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