January 18, 2006 - 11:24 a.m.
<Charlie in hospice
>
This can't be long, because I don't have the energy for it. But last night Mom called and said basically that Charlie is going to die pretty soon. He's giving up, and I'm sure that it's in no small way because Blanche isn't here anymore. They took him off his medications and he said he doesn't want any surgery or to be resuscitated. They're putting him in hospice today, and now I guess we're pretty much just waiting for him to die. I can't even imagine what this must be doing to my dad. I'm probably going to go home today, but I'm waiting for Mom to call before I make any final decisions.
After she told me, I called Ramsey and got in the bathtub. I was in the bathtub for about two hours. I just couldn't summon up the energy to get out. I forgot to take off my socks and underwear before I got in. Ramsey came over and brought me some movies, and we sat on the couch with "Friends" and a Cosmo. I tried to put energy into it, but I couldn't have cared less if we were sitting there doing nothing. I might have preferred that. He drove me to McDonald's to get something to eat, and on the way he asked me to read him an article out of the magazine. I know he was trying to cheer me up. But it took so much out of me to sit there and read it, I just stopped. He had bought me season 1 of "Friends" and he also got the series of "Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy", which a year and a few months ago we sat on the couch watching all day long. I feel bad that I didn't get more excited over these gifts, but what can you do? It is sweet that he gives me gifts so often, though. They're usually little, like some candy he picked up at the store, but it really makes me smile.
It snowed last night, so now it's really like January. I wish I would've taken a walk through the park while it was still perfect and untampered with.
Charlie's dog is probably going to live at my house. That'll be good, maybe dad will even start to like dogs. Ben and Mom will have an inside dog, and Traci will have a playmate. I just hope that it doesn't end up with Traci getting less attention, because she'll still live outside. After seven years outside, she wouldn't like to live in a house. I tried keeping her with me here, but she's just an outside dog. I hope that everyone still plays with her, even when Boomer is inside. I wish I could be there to make sure of that. I need to get out of this apartment - get a roommate, a house, a yard, and bring Traci to live with me again. I miss her so.
I hate that I can't express myself very well when I'm sad. I report facts about Charlie and last night as if I have no emotion, and then spend just as much time writing about the dogs, who don't actually need that much concern at the moment, comparatively. When did I lose it? My writing?
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