I miss liking the holidays

My X is in the hospital. He admitted himself on Thanksgiving and will most likely be there through the weekend. I just stopped imagining his death a week ago so this feels really weird. Like, "Uh...whoever's in charge here...? I already unwished that. Did you not get the memo?" FYI, apparently there's a five year delay on these things.

It's probably just gall stones or something easily fixable but I don't know. Could be pancreas...that's pretty yikes. See, something has been wrong for a few years but because he's all kinds of terrified of doctors, under the heading of "better the evil you don't know," it has gone largely undiagnosed. We know it's not a brain tumor, we know his liver is a distant memory, we just don't know what other organs have decided to check out.

I went to the hospital tonight to visit and see if I could get a feeling about how serious things are. I could not. There were too many girlfriends in the room and not any doctors; it clouded my intuitive ability. The first girlfriend was okay, she kept her mouth wisely shut. When the second one showed up and exclaimed how thin I've become I knew it was time to leave. Smarminess (even if it's true) is one of my very least favorite things on the planet; when it is aimed in my direction there will almost always be casualties.

Don't even know what to feel now. I always sucked at Limbo. Much better at All or Nothing.