I hang up with Christine Huo, go to my desk, pack up my things and leave work. I call Paul to tell him the news (sobbing, of course) and then get in my car and drive home to him.
For some reason we both kick into this weird task-orientated mode. I became obsessed with the fact that my gas light was on. I wondered if I could make it home without having to fill up. I wouldn’t want to be pumping gas and sobbing for all to see. Paul helped me calculate the distance home and determined, that, no, in fact I didn’t need gas. “Just come home. There’s a spot in front of the house” he tells me. “You can park there. We’ll get gas when we head back out to PAMF for your 1 o’clock.” We focused on gas and the errand we still had to run today — going to meet our nurse coordinator. I don’t know why we did this. I guess it gave us comfort to focus on things we could control.