Dread

I've been wandering around today, trying to figure out what to do, how to help, how to feel. It's hard to focus, hard to plan. I feel the crushing weight of the inevitable.
I feel like there's been a cave in. We are trapped, have already screamed for help. Our throats are hoarse and the air is thin. I feel like we are just waiting for the oxygen to run out.
Dread. I feel dread. Finally found the word that fits the feeling.

Honestly, that sucks. I'm making calls tomorrow. I'm taking mom to the doctor and we will sit there until they do something useful or forcibly remove us. I'm going to call the resource the mpd gave me and see if they can do anything. I'm going to call ALF and see if they have an educational program for emergency response teams to recognize liver disorders and hepatic encephalopathy. I'm going to take care of mom and plan for this to not happen to someone else's daughter.
It's 3:30 am, I'm exhausted, and I just decided to take on the concept of an entirely unknown and misunderstood class of illnesses. So maybe bed first, before all the ass kicking.