I’m at my desk, writhing and wringing the beanbag wrist rest, waiting for either my mother or H5 or neither of them to call me back.

On October 15, 2009, I took my mother to her local hospital to get her an MRI test. The MRI was ordered by her neurologist to confirm the brain damage from the untreated multiple sclerosis.

The Emergency Medical Technicians who responded to Husband Five’s 911 call would not enter the house without hazmat suits.

1. A song, at age 12, called “I Never See You Anymore.”

I never see you anymore You’re always halfway out the door On the way to your brand-new life

Fifteen years ago, while she was still alive, I submitted to my agent a partial manuscript about my mentally ill mother. It was called MY MOTHER IS CRAZY.

At my mother’s hasty memorial, her fifth husband, a schizophrenic, told me that her favorite TV show was the CBS sitcom “Two Broke Girls.”

It’s grim. Why would I subject anybody to this gruesome story?Nobody would want to read it. I mean, I’d want to read it. I wouldn’t enjoy it, though.

There I am again, weeping in the bathroom.

One month with Ted. Mostly great so far, so easy, no fights. I’m not totally in love with him, but I really like him, and the more time we spend together the more I see how different he is than anybody I’ve been with.

Twenty-six years old, and I no longer suck my thumb. Amazing. Unbelievable. And I haven’t hit myself since June, since I finally dumped Jack, no take-backs.