my mother has been in the hospital since yesterday morning. They say she's probably fine, but want to keep her another night for a stress test.

I spent last night there and most of today. I had to run home so I can change and go to work... can't bail on a party for 2,000 doctors you're responsible for, and my mother laughed at me when I contemplated it. She thinks I'm ridiculous for being worried.

But all I want to do is climb into my book and live there for a week. I'm quiet and uncomfortable and abrupt (with everyone but my mother, of course. I'm not a total ass), and just want to live in another world until these problems I have no control over pass. This is exactly what my childhood felt like, actually. Exactly.