Not Today

Mom gave us a scare yesterday morning. I had roused up to turn over around 4 a.m. and a few seconds later heard from the monitor a vocal noise that I knew wasn't right. It was kind of like the bumpy, droning noise that a kid in a wagon being pulled along a gravel road makes. Our feet hit the ground in tandem and, sure enough, Mom was lying in bed on her side having a seizure. It was the first in a year and a half; the first since she had started taking Dilantin. It was over soon and I sat with her afterward, watching her sleep. At 5:30 a.m. she had another. Damn.

So, today we head to the doctor. She had an appointment anyway, (Thanks, God. You know they're hard to get.), but now we have something else to talk about. I'm hoping that it's just a matter of readjusting her blood pressure medicine or something since, over a year ago, the attending physician said they were triggered by low blood pressure.

In spite of the fact that she doesn't even realize she's had a seizure unless we tell her, she did not sleep much last night for fear of having one. I was afraid to sleep, too, but did and then felt guilty. I'd turned up the monitor until I could hear her breathing...and the clock ticking and the static created from the bedside light by which Don reads throughout the night.

Let's not talk about letting go. Not today.