"will you go to lunch"
Kevin is having his brain surgery on Monday. The doctors will hopefully be able to remove his low grade tumor (the famous tapioca and the little men who paddle their boat in it) and his seizures will become less frequent or even stop maybe. If things don't go well there might be no difference, and if they remove the wrong bit o' brain he might end up with stroke like symptoms. But that isn't going to happen. I've decided.
Kevin started having seizures my senior, his junior, year in high school. I wasn't present for the first one. The 2nd one happened on a school bus. We were coming back from a drama competition. Driving hours. Kiley and I found out that day that our play had made it to the State playwriting finals. Big old exciting day. On the way home Kevin started to have an attack. It was terrifying. An ambulance took him to the hospital. Our drama director initially wasn't going to ride with him to the hospital. Because she is a bad person. And she used to keep a nasty goo covered tube of Preparation H in her desk drawer.
We all held it together pretty well until Kevin was in the ambulance. Then I fell apart. I can't tell you what other people were doing or feeling. At the hospital we weren't supposed to go in and see him, but we did. He told a scary story of a nurse asking if the drama director was his mom.
Now all I can do is pray. I know his life can't continue the way it has been. He seizes, he falls. Kevin could get very hurt. The surgery in some ways is safer than wandering around waiting for another attack. I spoke with Kevin on Friday night. He is confident and hopefully. I think I'm still scared for him. This is a chance for a better life though. A life where he can shake up a bottle of paint without having to worry about having a seizure.
In other news my dad told me to go to lunch three times today.
Kevin started having seizures my senior, his junior, year in high school. I wasn't present for the first one. The 2nd one happened on a school bus. We were coming back from a drama competition. Driving hours. Kiley and I found out that day that our play had made it to the State playwriting finals. Big old exciting day. On the way home Kevin started to have an attack. It was terrifying. An ambulance took him to the hospital. Our drama director initially wasn't going to ride with him to the hospital. Because she is a bad person. And she used to keep a nasty goo covered tube of Preparation H in her desk drawer.
We all held it together pretty well until Kevin was in the ambulance. Then I fell apart. I can't tell you what other people were doing or feeling. At the hospital we weren't supposed to go in and see him, but we did. He told a scary story of a nurse asking if the drama director was his mom.
Now all I can do is pray. I know his life can't continue the way it has been. He seizes, he falls. Kevin could get very hurt. The surgery in some ways is safer than wandering around waiting for another attack. I spoke with Kevin on Friday night. He is confident and hopefully. I think I'm still scared for him. This is a chance for a better life though. A life where he can shake up a bottle of paint without having to worry about having a seizure.
In other news my dad told me to go to lunch three times today.