last night, calvin had two more grand mals. how can he go nineteen days without one, then have four over three days in a row? that hasn't happened before. at least we're not in the hospital. in-between the ones last night, he was agitated and clammy. awake and restless for hours. patting the bed. banging the wall. extra cannabis didn't help. perhaps the new strain is the culprit. it's near impossible to know.
i barely slept a wink. when i did, my dreams were mixed and vivid. a long and winding one featured me and my boy. as usual, a lot went wrong. details of the dream are soon forgotten. what's left are impressions, like footprints on a sand bar. suffice to say, it wasn't pretty. those ones never are. in the second dream, someone i wanted was falling for me hard. the feelings were so real. i have frequent dreams of being in love with people who love me. in these, and dreams of flying over land or breathing underwater, i simply will things into being. just rise up on toes or dive below. float in and out of clouds and kelp and making love. i think these dreams are healthy. inevitably, calvin tears me from them. sometimes when he's seizing, or in moments just before.
that is how these recent days have dawned. from deep in dream to cold, hard consciousness, however groggy. ripped from splendid dreamscapes into reality's harshness. hard to start a day like that two mornings in a row. today makes three. it appears we may be headed toward a fourth.
wide awake, i cruise through recent photos. of trees and clouds, shrubs and seas. rocky shores. the landscapes, seascapes, skyscapes are magnificent. their beauty, raw. their awesome presence humbles my significance. autumn canopies wild with color as if combusting. sable waters laced with whitecaps, wild and churning. mackerel skies stretching like an ocean to forever. i trust infinity and nature. must let them lead me to surrender. like certain dreams, they set me free. make me whole. melt my sorrowful embers.
calvin just had another seizure, this a focal one. his dusky lips stitched up as if he'd eaten something rotten. i gave him a different strain of cannabis oil. one with more thc. we'll wait to see what happens. see if we can sleep tonight ... and dream.
I read this and thought a bit about you:ReplyDelete
Mostly, sometimes all we can do is breathe.