No Time to Cry

Waiting for the Tennessee Department of Corrections to call me or answer my calls is kind of like trying to call Santa Clause in December. It’s almost like they don’t even exist. I spoke to someone the day before yesterday. I have been waiting on Joe’s doctor to call me back. I’ve even been waiting patiently. The answering machine that I left a message on said to give her 24 hours. Those hours ticked away at 1pm yesterday and still I’ve heard nothing. I don’t know if he is still sedated. I don’t know if he’s awake. I don’t know if he is getting any kind of physical therapy. I don’t know anything and I don’t know how it is so difficult for people to put themselves in another person’s shoes. Regardless of whether he is “property of the state,” he is still someone’s family. People still love him and want to know about his well being. I called 2 lawyers over the last two days. I am supposed to be hearing back from both of them today regarding how to file for conservatorship of him, because, as one of them told me, it will be difficult to get power of attorney since he is unconscious and they didn’t think that was something a family member could do. So I wait. My biggest  fear is that they are trying to let the days pass by until they hit the thirty day mark. Joe’s brother said that he believes if there is nobody advocating for him or appointed to make medical decisions that they will unplug his life support after 30 days. Of course, nobody is communicating with me for me to ask them that. I took the day off from calling them incessantly yesterday. Today will not be the same. I am trying to be optimistic. Most of the time it works. On occasion my emotions kick in but my crying spells are over. I’ve been dry eyed since Monday. No time to cry when you are fighting for the one you love.