11:03 a.m. - 10/29/03
unsteady things.
My ISP decided to be snarky at this oh-so-appropriate time; hence, my disappearance the past few days. There is an entry before this, written Monday but only posted now. So don't miss all the fun of that. It's a rather happy entry, considering...
Yesterday, I had a moment where I mistakenly thought that I was crying my first happy tears in about five days. It's mistaken because I cried happy, grateful, relieved tears during the moments recorded in the last entry as well. But yesterday I cried them after being transferred all around the hospital phone lines to discover that Jenna is no longer in intensive care. Not to say that I'm not still caring about her rather intensively, but she's a bit more stable, and she's been moved, and that's...that's...that's just *one step* in the right direction, and I cried with all the fear and relief and joy. And it was difficult to explain that there was joy and hope, considering I looked to be blubbering pretty much in keeping with how I've blubbered all throughout the weekend. And yesterday was one of the worst days. My hope and faith were just completely spiraling away from me. I could only imagine the worst, and it was awful. I'm still scared to hope, scared of what will happen either way, but I've had such amazing support, and I really believe it *could* be ok. I mean, if I'm so sure it could *not* be ok, there has to be an equal chance that it could, right? Right. A better than equal chance. Because this is a powerful girl who is powerfully loved, and she will make it. And I will be with her, in any way. I will be with her. I will love her.
Hopefully, she's not pissed at me for leaving so many messages. I didn't mean to leave one yesterday; I wasn't even trying to talk with *her* - because she specifically asked us to wait on that - I just wanted information. And seeing as "being on the phone with strangers" is about as out of my element as I get, I was thrown and left a message without thinking how that might seem to her. But if she's pissed at me, she's feeling something...and it isn't fear... And I'll explain it when I write or talk to her next.
I swear there is nothing more torturous than this helplessness, this possibility of loss when a life so loved is hanging in the balance. This is the one I have the hardest time standing, and so I'm leaning hard on all of you. And though I have more to say, I think I'll call Sara now, to make sure she knows the good news. One step at a time.
I was so jittery, I even asked the nurse. I made her *tell me* that being on the floor where Jenna is now is better than being in intensive care. Even though it had to be. The nurse was nice. She said, "Yes, it's a good move." And I said something like, "oh, thank, ok, um, yeah, thank you, good, oh I'm so glad, thank you, I'm so glad, oh, thank you so much."
There have been miracles, impressive enough that even I can't worry they've happened by chance. There have been miracles, little only in relation to the Big Big Miracle I need so desperately, reminding me to have faith. And whatever confused version of faith I have, I'm holding onto. I'm still so scared...but I'm holding on - to people holding onto me. holding onto her. we'll keep each other's balance.
chord
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