I have to keep reminding myself today is Saturday. This last week of stress and strain, Sturm und Drang, has warped my sense of time completely.

The long minutes drag by as your SO struggles to breathe.

The minutes zip away as you're trying to ask the doctor on his rounds a few key questions, like, "Is he going to die?"

The endless nights as you wait for visiting hours the next day.

The interminable stretch of time as you wait to see if the test results indicate cancer, to learn whether the treatments are being effective -- or not.

Then the few hours away from the hospital where you're trying to work half days and buying stuff for when SO comes home (special food, etc.) and setting up the downstairs portion of the house as an apartment, so he doesn't have to climb the stairs--those hours are far too short and too soon ended for the tasks that have to be stuffed into them.

Time to wake him up and give him his meds. Later.