Grief Does Things To People

I am kicked out of the room. Tests and procedures "the plastics" don't think I have seen before.

I am annoyed, as usual. They are trying to get him off the ventilator but no one took into account the type of anesthesia needed for the additional procedures. If I didn't open my mouth he would have been extubated and re-incubated because he needed to be for these procedures. I feel like I am sometimes surrounded by robots. It is safer for Jason for the procedures to be done now with a ventilator. If I don't bring that up these residents and fellows have no clue to follow up. This terrifies me when the offer recommendations. These booksmart people with no empathy or common sense are the ones advising me. This is why I feel so sick.

I am waiting patiently to get back into the room. There is a large Dominican family here In the waiting room with me. They have been here all weekend sometimes 30 deep. Some have just arrived from Santiago with luggage and wearing summer clothes. All telling their dramatic renditions on how they found out about their family member in the hospital. Grabbing their cellphones to call friends and tell the story of what they saw in the room. One even went back to take a picture for her friend in DR, "para Tu vea."

At times we crossed paths when I sit here exiled from Jason's room so they can change his sheets or do a test or something. They flutter in and out, talk, cry, make phone calls. The food shows up and you would think it is Thanksgiving.
What the eff is up with food and people under stress????
I used to know. But like I have said before- this right here has changed me. I can't imagine a bite much less a meal most times. Typically if I am here when the herd thins one or two of the family members try to talk to me.
"Tu habla espanol?"
Often times they are teary-eyed or voices shaky.
I always answer in crisp English- No.
They always give me a side eye like they know I am lying.
I am sure there is a special place in hell reserved for people like me but I can't.
I  so truly sorry for your pain and I will pray for you because I know what hell is like. But my plate is full and I can't take a nibble off of someone's grief plate.
I can't take listening to another story when I am on empty.
I come and sit quietly and work on my laptop or just sit in silence for a reason.
I need it.
I am broken.
I can't come to your pity party.