winkgirl4's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Baby Steps Okay, so what�s new??? I�m on top of my game at work. All the 'this-es and thats' are done and, better yet, they are done to the satisfaction of the powers that be. There are a few minor tasks that linger here and there but, all in all, I�m ahead of the game. (And, considering the number of tasks that come across my desk each day, that�s a pretty big deal.) Whilst acquiring his signature for the trillions of documents that come across my desk for him each day- some interesting, some not-quite-so interesting- my boss informed me that he�ll be meeting with the President on Monday. The President of a rival or collaborative manufacturing conglomerate? No. The President of the Hair Club for Men- fun (!)- but, no. Steve purchased a $25,000 table at one of the biggest fund raisers of the year and will meet with President Bush, himself. He was kind enough to ask if I�d like him to slap him for me. Tempting, yes, but I declined the offer. Steve is a huge Bush fan (yes, people, they are out there) and though there was a smile of satisfaction on his face as he was asking me to add this to his agenda, not counting his attending Bush�s Inauguration, this will, in fact, be the third time he�s attended such a function- so it�s not a completely new thing to him. For those of you who don�t know, Shannon- my best friend- had six seizures this last Saturday and because he had so many, recovery time is slow going. He�s worried. I�M worried. But I don�t tell him I�m worried. I tell him that everyday he�s making more progress and it looks like he�ll be back to his usual self in no time at all. I hope that what I say is true. I wish, like hell, the he- even remotely- believed it. The other night, while trying to get his mind off of things, we decided to play a game of Scrabble. (We both thought that the mental exercise would be good for him.) We got about half way through the bag of tiles when he stalled and stared for a good ten minutes at the tiles on his rack. �I know I have a �bingo� on my rack right now,� he said, �but I just can�t figure it out. I hate this. I hate that it�s so hard to think.� �We can just call it game, if you want,� I replied. �I have a �bingo� on my rack, too, but I can�t, in good conscience, bring myself to play it.� You see, the play before, I was going to play the word �Size� on a double word tile but he blocked my play. I played the three superfluous tiles (saving the word �size� in case an opportunity to play it came up, later.) What do I draw? The letter�s U-R-E. He turned his rack around and showed me his tiles (which would have made a Q-word) and, so, I turned mine around and showed him my word, �Seizure�. We both laughed but, man, what a really sucky time to get a really great word!? One of the first things he said, when he finally regained his ability to talk, has rung in my mind like an echo in a canyon. �I feel like they are just going to let me die.� How sad and scary that must be to think. I realize that I have had to- and probably will continue to have to- defend him, (in much the same way that I have had to defend my continued association with other people). Still, the wages of his sins shouldn�t be death. He�s been a little boy for far too many years, true, but in an effort to be a good father, he�s tried like hell to learn to be a man and it breaks my heart to imagine that child never knowing his father or for Miranda to have to face raising this child on her own. And it breaks my heart even more to imagine losing such a great friend. So, in light of all that, I hope that what I tell him is true. Doctors can be wrong. McAlester doctors can be VERY wrong. Though six grand mall seizures in a 24 hour period have to take some kind of a toll on a person�s brain- I have to believe that he�ll recover. Completely. And, when I begin to have even the slightest bit of doubt, I have to keep telling him I don�t. 1:05 p.m. - June 16, 2006 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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