Wow, it has been over a week - nearly 2 weeks - since I posted. I don't think I've ever been that neglectful before, though my posting has always been more sporadic than I liked. Did you miss me intarweb? Er, assuming you even noticed I was gone? I've been reading all of you but not commenting much, either. Sorry; I'll try to be a better blog-bud.

Here is what's been happening: work is awful, truly awful. Twice in the last 3 weeks I've been late to the office even though I was there in plenty of time. I was late because I was sitting in my car in the parking deck, crying because I simply couldn't face going inside - that's how bad it has been lately. I have no idea how (or if) that situation is going to get resolved and no idea what I should do. I am as afraid of making a bad decision as I am of facing the current situation. I've been very depressed about all that and very angst-y, so I haven't been posting because, honestly, does the intarweb need more self-indulgent whinging? I thought not.

I can only wallow in self-pity for so long before I start to bore even myself, however, and I had just about turned a mental corner, beginning to see the humour in things again and feeling ready to post a few funny anecdotes when tragedy struck. I mean that tragedy struck literally, not as a funny lead-in to some bizarre events at The Hellhole.

My brother and I have a very, very close friend whose dad broke his leg a couple weeks ago. No big deal, he's relatively young (64), in good health, etc. so not a cause for alarm; people break bones all the time, after all, nor was he injured other than the leg, i.e. no concussion, no broken rib that punctured a lung - just your standard garden-variety broken leg. After looking at how the break was healing, the doctors decided that Friend's Dad needed surgery to put in a stabilizer plate and a couple of pins (mainly because the break was very near the ankle), so that was this week. Again, no big deal, no cause for alarm. Friend's Dad came through the surgery fine, was up chatting with Friend and Friend's Mom, ate all his dinner, took his pain meds and all was well.

All was well, that is, until about 1AM the evening of the surgery, when he was found unresponsive. They tried to revive him to no avail, so tests were run which eventually revealed massive blood clots in his lungs. CAT scans were run, things were tried but...well, my friend's dad was brain-dead. His pupils wouldn't even react to light.

The funeral was today.

It's so surreal. Friday night, after all this happened, we were sitting around talking with our Friend and it's just so hard to wrap one's mind around all this. I can't say I was prepared for my dad to die, but I knew he was ill, I knew it was cancer, I knew it was bad. Contrast that with a healthy guy with no real medical problems dying from a broken leg. Well, from surgery to put pins in a broken leg, but still - no mitigating circumstances either, like being in an overcrowded charity ward in a third-world country after an earthquake, or having a barely functional liver after five decades of alcoholism, or something. I mean, who dies from a broken leg in this day and age?!? It's just...surreal.

I don't have a nice neat wrap-up to all of this, like how my work problems are meaningless in a world where fine, giving, wonderful people die from a fucking broken leg, or an inspirational homily about being nice all the time and telling everyone how much they mean to you because you never know when you're gonna go in for routine surgery and not wake up, or anything like that. You're smart people - you can figure that out for yourselves. I'm just gonna say, "So long, Dane. You were a great guy, and you raised a great son, and I'm glad I can call him my friend."