Wednesday, 13 March 2013

And all because he knew too much

And the fortunate events of the days of my past have returned. 

At around 10:15 AM I receive a rude awakening from a grand mal seizure. I find myself on the floor, still tense yet tired from all of the repeated stiffening and trembling, still frothing at the mouth, tongue sliced and bleeding, the muscles in my face repeatedly grimacing until those ache as well.

Not fun.

I still manage to find my way from my room, through the hallways, down the stairs, and into the chair I sit in each morning. Lucrezia was already downstairs, and she could tell by just one look at me what had happened.

" Oh, Max, you've had a seizure!" she gasped. "Are you all better now?"

I try the best that I can to sign yes. I lied.

For Lucrezia will panic if I am not 'all better now', because that translates to 'something else is on the way!' And if 'something else is on the way!', then she would overreact and make a huge deal over a seizure which is as normal to me as breathing.

 "That's good," she says. 

Now I have come out of the seizure completely and am well enough to walk around on my own. I stand and follow Lucrezia to her room, where she had been organising her clothes-she meant to buy laundry detergent but forgot as soon as I had come downstairs. And she wanted to go now.

So I followed Lucrezia to the store for laundry detergent (and a few more things, it turned out), no meltdowns or disruptions. I was calm for the entire shopping trip. 

Returning from the store, Lucia and Annabelle having returned from their own errands, we all relaxed and played Galina Baranova. Not one single meltdown when the CD skipped.

And thus the days of calm have arrived. We all know that this is the calm before the storm.

How long will it last? That I wish to know.