July 29th, 17:41 | lilence nightingale? I think not

Well. I experienced my first mild panic in a little bit last night when I called up the Boy and heard from his housemate that he was in the hospital. Especially since he'd apparently called earlier. So I guess I'm getting a taste of the worrying-for-other thing. I'm really pissed off at the folks at that hospital now, actually. But. Hopefully he'll be okay soon.

It's weird for me to think how upset I am, and how sad it's making me that I'm not able to be there and take care of the Boy. All today, he would send the occasional message (too much typing hurts his shoulder) and I felt all pitiful and sad because I can't bustle around and make him congee and fluff pillows and make him watch crappy movies and such. Very strange. I've never *wanted* to take care of anyone, I just have. It's just something one does. Example.

Whilst dating RecentEx, he pretty much lived at my place. This was awesome-cool for lots of reasons, the most obvious being that we could be together so much of the time. (The apartment was crazily small though, so it also meant when we were fighting there wasn't really enough room for the two of us.) Anyway. One time he was incredibly sick, all feverish and throwing up and yar. So I put him to bed (my bed! my sheets!), made him some sick food, put a bucket next to the bed for him, made sure he always had water to drink, kept him taking temperature regulating drugs on a reasonable schedule, and tried to not disturb him. (This was harder than it sounds since my machine was in my bedroom. Kinda hard to do homework without it.) At night, I whipped out the sleeping bag (mostly for his comfort; apparently I squished him up against the wall) and slept on the floor next to my bed (and right next to the bucket, as my housemate so archly pointed out). This continued for about three days (I think?) until he got better. And none of it seemed strange. Going out in the middle of the night to buy ginger ale and comfort food was normal. It was just The Right Thing To Do.

Afterwards, RecentEx said that no one had ever taken care of him while sick like I had. Not even his mom, really. (She wasn't as doting, apparently.) I'd been so surprised; it hadn't seemed like anything out of the ordinary. What else would I have done? But... it wasn't something I'd wanted to do. It wasn't something I kind of half-daydreamed about (inasmuch as one can ponder wistfully about their love being sick) and wished for. When he had a cold when he was in another city, I felt bad, but I didn't really feel that I wished I could be there. Maybe it just didn't seem very serious. I'm not sure. But it was different. Not like now. When I feel terribly shunted by Fate in general, and am being rudely kept away from caring for the Boy as is my right, damnit.

Yet another sign of my PSC-dom? Mild symptom of impending dotiness, and smothering mom-hood? Both? Your guess is as good as mine.

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