The other side

In 7 years, I've really learned a lot about reading an EEG. The waves on the screen look like seismic quakes. I can tell when she seizes, and when the waves are normal. Some of the large waves look like seizures, but they are normal - usually because she is moving. But right now, she is in a deep sleep, and the waves are everywhere on the screen. It makes me wonder, has she been having seizures in her sleep without us knowing? Another question for Dr. Shields in the morning.

This is a strange experience for me, being on the other side of the hospital bed. The care giver and not the patient. I know this hospital so well. I lived here for a month of my life. I'm not used to this side of the bed. I went down a bit ago after Jenelle fell into a deep sleep to get something at the dinning commons. When I came back in, I had to show ID. I didn't realize you had to do that, I guess because I was always a patient. My food came from room service, and I didn't parade in the lobby after 9:00 p.m.

A year ago, I was dying at the hospital in Santa Monica. I've amused myself looking at the calendar of late, because I barely remember anything this time last year. Looking back at the blog entries helps. Jenelle's room is set up exactly the same as the one where I spent one of the worst month of my life. Not remembering that time is unavoidable. Yet, I remind myself that I am fine now. I survived, so I could continue to be a caregiver to Jenelle. So I could sit on the other side of the bed with her.

Brett had to stay home with Jack today. Jack was voted onto the 9 & 10 Year old All Star Team, and Brett is helping to coach. Jack has school and they have practice. Brett would love Jenelle's room - it overlooks Pauley Pavilion, and the football practice field. My room was on the other side. Brett always wanted me to ask to be moved.

Thank you for the continued thoughts, seizure vibes and prayers. I'm exhausted, but I'll keep you posted.