Lover of Nachos; a.k.a Jake, Bubba, Maitre D; Clark Hodges
I’m sorry to hear your father and your family are going through this.
My father had his aorta rupture when he was 59. To fix that, the body is super-cooled, & blood flow to the brain was cut off for 30 minutes, that apparently is the max amount of time blood flow can be cut off to the brain.
Friends and family would talk around his beside when he was in ICU. One friend said there were so many wires in him it looked liked he could pick up Radio Moscow. Someone else mentioned something about Dallas, Texas.
When he had recovered somewhat he was convinced he was in a hospital in Moscow. Other times he was convinced he was in Dallas. Either way, he kept insisting he wanted to go home to Little Rock.
The only way he would believe he was actually in Little Rock was if a friend of the family, John Barr, came and showed him on the map. John Barr was a fellow professor, maybe of geography, or just really into maps, I don’t recall.
So, “Honest John Barr”, as my Dad started referring to him, came to the hospital and showed him a map and told him he was indeed in Little Rock. My Dad finally believed he was in Little Rock. It was probably a full six months before the confusion went away.
He later had a bypass and valve surgery. I don’t recall the memory problems being as bad after that as it was for the aorta surgery. My point is my dad came back to being my dad. It just took some time.
Gawd, that sounds dumber every time I’ve thought about it since.
What did I realistically think would come from telling her that. I should have just apologized for the Facebook faux-pas and left it at that.
I wonder if my health insurance will cover surgery that turns me into a Eunuch?
No need to filter me with Xkit. I won’t post any more about this. Probably.
Probably not going to post much of anything.
So much for the direct approach. Facebook friend request denied, or not accepted, is probably the euphemistic way of saying it.
Time to refocus my thoughts on dying alone in a gutter.
That doesn’t seem grammatically correct. Fuck it. Massive amounts of adrenaline subsiding through me right now.
In regards to a post last week about my cringe-worthy Facebook faux-pas with a co-worker I am attracted to. Private talk. All of the scenarios and possible conversations that have played through my head didn’t manage to make it out of my mouth.
I explained about the FB request.She said she thought she was going crazy because the name disappeared. It didn’t seem like it bothered her. I told her I hope I didn’t make her uncomfortable, or something like that. I can’t really remember at the moment.
I told her “I fancy her like mad. As the Brits would say.” She didn’t recoil in horror. She has a good poker face. Whenever I talked about relationships, and her current marital status, or something, she kept going back to it wasn’t weird, she’s FB friends with two other co-workers, etc., and no problem with the FB request.
She’s not sure what’s going to happen with her marriage. They’re going through some things. I explained something about knowing she probably didn’t want to hear that someone is attracted to her while she is going through what she’s going through, but I didn’t know what her status was currently. (Pre post edit: huh? Really? Wut? What am I trying to say? Constipated brain is constipated)
I didn’t get the feeling she was violently opposed to the idea of me being attracted to her. Again, good poker face. Not expressionless. No expression or hint of how she might feel about me. I wouldn’t expect an answer from someone going through marital problems. There seems to have been possible signals. Look backs, etc. It’s probably just her being a nice person.
I’m not sure…well about anything. If it weren’t for bad timing, I’d have no timing at all.
I feel like I’m going to be judged negatively about my actions from you guys. I feel odd, and stupid writing this.
I believe in direct, open communication. Even though it hasn’t worked out for me in the long run.
Helpless romantic. Hopeless romantic. Hopeful romantic. Destined to die alone in a gutter.
I don’t feel bad about telling her directly how I feel. If I hadn’t done the FB fuck up I wouldn’t have told her until I knew her status.
Though, I waited once before with someone I thought was divorced, turned out only separated. By the time I acted on massive hints over the course of a year, no you’re slow on the uptake and have low self-esteem, she had gotten back with her husband.
Yep. It could have been worse. Or maybe it was…ah, more negative thinking which was ingrained in me by my mother. Ugh. Ugh seems to be my favorite thing to say these days.
Awkward post ends awkwardly.