Underwater

Well, on Friday the hospital transferred my mother to a nursing home.  Today I visited her.  It's pretty awful, as her physical condition is such that she can't even sit up on her own.  She can raise her arms, but that's about it.  She's just too weak to do much of anything else.  She has a huge hernia and is still on IV antibiotics.    Her mind is still sharp, and I think part of her knows she won't be going home to her house again.  We don't talk about it.  As in our entire relationship, a lot of it is surface only, never going too deep.

And my 82 year old father, who moved down here nearly two years ago and lives totally alone - no friends, no other family but me and my two brothers, is also dependent on me, and I just don't have anything left to give right now.  I can only do what I can do.

Meanwhile, I'm battling the feeling that I'm underwater.  Fighting to rise to the surface and catch my breath. It's hard to be creative - to write new synopsis's.  I can't even motivate myself to exercise - and until this last crisis, I was losing a steady pound a week by counting calories and walking 10,000 steps a day.  Not enough, I know, but something is better than nothing.  I'm down 9 pounds since I got back from the cruise.  

So I'm struggling with two synopsis's.  They should have been done by now - it was a week ago tomorrow that I turned the book in.  I feel lazy, unmotivated, and wish I could go on a shopping binge.  But I can't.  

Tomorrow is doctor and dentist, and then more struggling to finish these darn things.  I have to like them, since I will have to write whatever book they outline.  Sort of.  Sometimes, I veer from the synopsis.

Anyway, back to it.  Dog paddling.