![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
khatruOtter had R wake me this morning; apparently he'd been calling my cellphone and it didn't wake me. This was about 7:30am, and he was having pain issues, which kicked off a round of running around getting tests.
When I looked on my phone, he'd sent SMS messages aroudn 6:48-6:52. My phone history doesn't list all calls from the same number. Same timing on my hangouts message log.
Having the ability to sleep through anything is very useful. Sometimes, it's not.
As a general rule, I don't beat myself up over things. I don't really see the use of guilt, especially as most people use it as a self-flaggellation tool without ever doing anything different. As far as I can tell, I don't feel it; I acknowledge that I did something wrong, apologize, and do what I can to make it better. Sometimes that's not possible. Life sucks, then.
I don't know what I could have done, if I'd seen the messages/woke to the calls; what I did was ask questions about when he took meds, and how/if things were different than the last time he described things to me. I'm not sure it would have been any better if I'd texted the doctor earlier than 7:35, since he told me to call the office at 9 to set up tests. I sat on the bed with him till then, and a bit longer till it was time to leave for the tests.
I have this silent scream echoing in the back of my head, underlaid with fervent non-stop cursing, that hasn't yet gone away.
When I looked on my phone, he'd sent SMS messages aroudn 6:48-6:52. My phone history doesn't list all calls from the same number. Same timing on my hangouts message log.
Having the ability to sleep through anything is very useful. Sometimes, it's not.
As a general rule, I don't beat myself up over things. I don't really see the use of guilt, especially as most people use it as a self-flaggellation tool without ever doing anything different. As far as I can tell, I don't feel it; I acknowledge that I did something wrong, apologize, and do what I can to make it better. Sometimes that's not possible. Life sucks, then.
I don't know what I could have done, if I'd seen the messages/woke to the calls; what I did was ask questions about when he took meds, and how/if things were different than the last time he described things to me. I'm not sure it would have been any better if I'd texted the doctor earlier than 7:35, since he told me to call the office at 9 to set up tests. I sat on the bed with him till then, and a bit longer till it was time to leave for the tests.
I have this silent scream echoing in the back of my head, underlaid with fervent non-stop cursing, that hasn't yet gone away.
