Why don't you understand me?

I spent 2 days last week at 2 hospitals with 2 of my boys. True is 17 and had a tonsillectomy on Monday. Harlen had to stay the night with him because at 7am the next morning Giles had to have emergency surgery in Boise, St. Luke's on both his hips. He was also diagnosed with SCFE Slipped Capitol Femoral Epiphysis, which Maya had 3 years ago. He had long screws inserted into both femur bones.
I have been a basketcase. I hate hospitals. I hate my kids being under the knife, under anesthesia. I hate the reminders of 7+ years ago. I hate the smell. I hate the carpet. I hate the plates and utensils. I hate the beds. I hate watching them in pain.I hate explaining why someone in our family died before the age of 25. I hate being nice when the anxiety is eating me up inside. I hate when people who should understand my plight are completely oblivious. This isn't anything like before. At least they are doing well. No one died you should be grateful. YES grateful. Do I look like I am not happy everything went well? Well I don't mean to. I mean to look relieved, but I am full of sadness, and anger, and panic, and panic, and anxiety, and did I mention panic.

Sure you look at me like I am crazy, that I can't handle a simple surgery. I see it. You tell me boy you are handling this great, but you don't know that I want to run, I want to drink, I want to get rid of this feeling of dread that surrounds me. "Trust in God" Yes because your God has done me well so far.