It's so quiet after a seizure. We've all retreated to our corners. Me, in my bed, down the hall, making sure the post ictal period is a restful sleep. Well ---- I can't really " make sure"--- just hope and listen. Meaghan getting ready for work. She'll carry the image most of the day. It'll probably color her interactions, observations. Will she grow impatient with some client's whining? Maybe. Barry's reading the newspaper downstairs. He recorded the seizure in the calendar we keep. The calendar. Me: " how long since the last?". He: "three weeks". Quiet.
I read a comment on Elizabeth Aquino's post on Facebook today. It said "fuck a duck". I was so surprised. I have never heard anyone say that except for me when I am just exasperated beyond --- beyond.
Fuck a duck.